Erebor Rising
by morninsunshines
Summary: Sequel to my story, Broken Curses. The BOFA is over and Thráin is upon the throne of Erebor. He is summoning the Longbeards home and instructing the lords to bring eligible dwarrowlasses for the Durin's. This story is written along the lines of Broken Curses with Elrond and his elves and those of Lothlórien and more.
1. 1 Helcaraxë

**This is a sequel to the story Broken Curses. Thráin is on the throne and ordering his world righted. There is of course Thorin and company, Gandalf, Bilbo, Celeborn, Galadriel and Elrond and others of the Hobbit era. It picks up where Broken Curses leaves off. The Thráin I like for appearance is the first one shown in the first Hobbit movie, where he has one eye and macabre scar. The story is not following any cannon; it doesn't follow any book or movie, but I will reference what I will, when I want and place it to my liking in the story or change, invent or do whatever I feel like. No spamming.**

 **These are all the Sindarin terms I plan on using. Please refer here for a term as I won't put them at the end of a chapter.**

 **nín - my**  
 **hervenn – husband**  
 **hervess – wife**  
 **bruin meldir – old friend**  
 **elleth – female elf**  
 **neth - young**  
 **peredhel – half elf**  
 **aiut naneth - ancient mother**  
 **iôn – son**  
 **daeriôns – grandsons**  
 **daeriell - granddaughter**  
 **melethril-nín – my lover**  
 **meleth-nín – my love**  
 **ellon – male elf**  
 **fëas – entwined souls**  
 **naneth – mother**  
 **hanna – to thank or thank you**  
 **daernaneth – grandmother**  
 **daeradar – grandfather**  
 **daerodhrons – grandparents**  
 **elleth – female elf**  
 **adar – father**  
 **naneth – mother**  
 **daeriôns-nín – my grandsons**  
 **iôns-nín – my sons**  
 **hanna-nín – my thanks**  
 **iell - daughter**  
 **pen neth – young one**  
 **mellon- nín – my friend**  
 **mae govannen - greeting**

 **Erebor Rising**

Lord Dóvad belted out a hearty roar and slapped his engraved silver mug of ale into that of his soon to be relative, Lord Skafid, leader of all Stonefoots. "Who says only the Durin's have the ability ta arrange marriages?"

"Aye, Dóvad," Skafid audaciously agreed. "The contract is already in the hands of our scribes and within a month we will see the uniting of the great Stonefoot Clan with our southern allies, the Blacklocks." They turned their attention to the party Lord Dóvad's wife organized for this propitious occasion of a contractual betrothal of Skafid's son, Trefid, to Dóvad's daughter, Lióni.

Bright flaming torches cast shadows on the stone walls that leapt and surged in tempo with the merriment of dwarves dancing a favorite reel this cold, winter night. Dwarves of title were invited to the largest hall within the Blacklocks stronghold of Jötunheim in the Southern district of the Red Mountains to celebrate their Lord's daughter was finally being wed. The Stonefoots shared the western slopes of the Orocarni, while their sister clans moved yet eastward until no word reached their ears in over twenty-five hundred years, and their fate became unknown. A few of the ill-fated Ironfists and Stiffbeards remained in the Orocarni and intermarried in an age so far in the past their blood no longer counted as separate in the councils.

Lióni slipped away from her dancing partner and made good her plans to escape when the reel made its final turn around the room. So far she managed to avoid meeting any of the Stonefoots who came to Jötunheim; first by hiding at a friend's cavern and then slipping into the dance late. She made sure her mother knew she was present to tell her father and then planned her exit. She breathed a sigh of relief as her feet swiftly took her to the family chambers, where all servants were allotted time away from serving while the lord and his family were at the dance. Stripping her gown especially made for the occasion; she tossed it haphazardly on the bed, not caring half of the skirt draped to the floor, and added her delicate underthings which landed on or near the gown. Naked, she tore open her closet made of sturdy oak and grabbed her favorite clothing. First she pulled long woolen underwear over her bare buttocks and tied them swiftly, shivering against the chill of a room where the fire was allowed to burn down to embers. A thick knit top covered her bare breasts and her next item was tough pants of stiff, durable material. A knitted sweater, wool socks and her leather boots had her ready to tackle the freezing temperatures. Shaking combs from her hair, she quickly made one long braid down her back and added a hat of tanned rabbit fur. Her ensemble was complete when she added several knives, grabbed her bow and quiver and retreated from her family home.

White vapor told anyone watching when she exhaled that it was cold and her breath didn't drift away as she would like this dark night. Ever since she was a dwarfling, she could be found among the warriors with her brother who was only a year her senior and they were proud a dwarrowlass was so talented with a sword and bow. This cold night, they naturally allowed her passage through their posts due to her warming their hearts with her caring about them and sneaking food from the Lord's own table. Tonight she brought deserts, she squirreled away from the kitchens for the party.

"Ye don't go far, lass," a seasoned guard warned.

"I need air, Trike. I'll be careful." Lióni ran into the pines to put distance from her and a fate worse than orcs or goblins…...marriage to someone she could never love. How her mother allowed this travesty, she would never understand. She cut off a well-used trail and started climbing the steep slope, ever higher until she broke from the pines into alder shrubs that she had to fight through. Breaking a few dry twigs that cracked loudly as they broke under the weight of her boots, she used her hands, encased in warm fur lined mittens to aid her climb. The going became easier and within steps she was on crusted snow to her destination of a rock outcrop. Sitting on a small rock just low enough to form a stool, she watched the stars with wonder. _'I don't want this nightmare. Maybe I can run away and find work in the caverns of the Longbeards. I'm half Longbeard. They will have to take me in. If I succumb to wearing my hated beard, I can easily become a soldier. Father has taught me alongside my brother since I could walk._

Alone in her misery, she didn't have a clue that several hundred miles to the west an elf was watching her.

* * *

"What do you see, hervess-nín?" Celeborn sat on the chair carved into the Mallorn root and rested his back against grey bark. He could tell by her shift in posture the mirror was alive.

"Mithrandir will leave within the month, as soon as the pass is clear enough."

"I should see him safely to the Dimrill Stair," Celeborn declared and waited patiently for more news.

"Yes, you and he need to talk. He is still troubled by the thought of a wizard turning to serve Sauron." She watched as images floated outward from a tiny drop of water in the center of her mirror. "Our daeriôns are safely at the Refuge of Edhelion where Lord Estoras is being an exceptional host and they are drinking his wine at an alarming rate. They act like you," she added cheekily.

"More like their Imladris mentor, Glorfindel," Celeborn objected.

"A man entered the gates of Mithlond with the gold Thráin provided for ponies. He must be wishing to unload his gold. Taíban is taking it and exchanging for equal value in silver and copper that men prefer as currency."

"While dwarves and elves prefer gold or Mithril," Celeborn noted.

There was silence for a moment and Galadriel spoke again. "Elrond is in his workshop. He looks to be mending a book."

Celeborn rose and on feet encased in soft doe hide shoes, made her side in a flash. Her mirror held no allure for him, but he was curious why Elrond would mend something personally when his house was stacked with adroit elves.

Time stopped as they watched their son-in-law carefully remove a broken backed cover made of leather. Age cracked the spine and loose pages were falling out. With reverential care he laid them to one side and searched the book coverings until he had one of like dimensions. In the flickering light, with practiced hands, he sewed the pages to the binding using a thin strand of wet sinew. Once dried, it would tighten and hold the pages fast for hundreds of years. Clipping the strand's end signaling he was done binding; he closed the book and dipped a narrow paintbrush in a vial and in Sindar Cirth they saw him write: _Letters To Lord Elrond From Lady Celebrían: Volume Four._ His hands quickly recreated the cover perfectly, adding bright designs of birds, flowers and leaves.

"Usually the Valar don't give me that much time or detail," Galadriel murmured softly, eyes misting at the care he gave precious letters written in an age past. "They were kind to us this night for the glimpse into Elrond's private undertaking to preserve our daughter's words of love."

Celeborn let his arms engulf her for comfort and felt her lean her back against his chest. He gently brushed a long lock of gold off her neck and replaced the spot with his lips. "I wish we had parchment for our love letters instead of memories."

"I'm writing many of them in a book for Arwen's wedding. It will be a gift from me to my daeriell. I saw the boys purchase the rings. Events are unfolding rapidly now; as they did in the First Age."

The scene changed again and candlelight remained, but the background shifted from an airy workshop to a cavern of dwarves. There was a party with merriment and dancing in the halls of those she knew were not of the Longbeard clan; their neighbors for the last two ages. For only Longbeards inhabited the Misty Mountains to the Blue's and White range as well. She knew the Firebeards and Broadbeams were long dead; killed when the Valar sank parts of Beleriand, and Ironfists and Stiffbeards hadn't been mentioned since it was rumored they went with the blue wizards to lands east of the Orocarni and disappeared from the annals of history.

"I don't recognize the banners," Celeborn commented. He stayed for the viewing when he felt his wife's fëa needing replenishing. His fëa was now soothing her weariness.

"I do believe it is a celebration of sorts and there is more than one clan in attendance. My guess is the Stonefoots and Blacklocks are celebrating…..maybe a marriage or pact." She stopped talking and watched. The mirror darkened and at first she thought it was done revealing until her eyes adjusted. Under the flight of Eärendil sat a dwarrowlass gazing into the heavens. There was just enough light from _Ithil_ to see sadness in a small body, where all but her face was buried beneath layers.

"She is without her beard," Celeborn added. "Why are you seeing dwarves?"

"If she weren't important to Middle Earth, I wouldn't be. I have learned not to question the wisdom of the Valar. The mirror is often a puzzle and the pieces emerge for me to assemble. I will remember her."

Another shift and the face of Thorin Oakenshield filled her bowl. He was like the lass, sitting with his back against a saddle in the dark and staring into the night sky. Like a bird flying ever higher, the scene backed away until they could see a camp of over thirty more dwarves sitting on the frozen ground, chewing what looked like jerky. No fires lit the camp.

"Mithrandir told us Oakenshield would be going to arrest a Lord Fræg, head healer to the city of Jötunheim," Celeborn spoke softly. "They must be getting close and are far enough south to not wish to draw attention of the Nazgûl."

The mirror darkened and _Ithil_ was reflected on the calm surface.

Galadriel closed her eyes and let her head fall back on his shoulder and whispered in his mind, _'I need your strength, meleth-nín. Refresh my fëa and I leave the method in your hands.'_

Celeborn let his swift mind flit over a few scenarios as his fingers splayed over her abdomen and massaged. _'Which bedroom do you yearn for?'_

' _Mmmm, the one with the most excellent wine. I think with a glass to melt my stiff muscles and your magic hands regenerating my body and fëa sans this gown and I may be generous to allow you a hunting trip with Legolas for a few days.'_

' _I plan on you leaving me too weak and tired to mount Agenon.'_ Gentle hands withdrew and placed her left hand on his right and they made the long climb to their talan.

Entering their main hall, they spotted Arwen and Legolas playing flutes and the hall unusually quiet as intermingling elves watched the young couple in hopes a budding romance was gracing their lives. A few elves softly sang the words to a song from the First Age.

' _Are we going to disappoint them?'_ Celeborn inquired.

' _No, give our elves hope. Our losses from the battle are still torturing friable fëas and we don't need more sailing._

They sat on a settee, hands still together until the lay of Beren was complete.

"I told you Adar made me learn all the old songs," Legolas boasted.

"As I was also instructed by my naneth and adar," Arwen quickly retorted and turned her gaze upon her beloved grandparents. "It has reached my ears, Daeradar, that you and Legolas are planning a hunting trip that you promised me. Remember last year, you said next hunt for a bear or lion and you would take me?"

Celeborn noted her determined look. "I wasn't going far. Just to the foothills west of here where a mountain lion was spotted. We don't need it feasting on our sheep and goats that live on those verdant meadows. You may come." He saw her smile at him.

"I wish to kill the animal," Arwen declared. "My brothers are always bringing great tales and hides to Imladris of their hunts. I wish a hunting story of my own."

"If it is in my power, you may have your story," Celeborn dryly replied. "Although," his eyes shifted to Legolas, "your hunting companion might not be so generous."

Arwen's eyes followed his to Legolas, who looked sad all the sudden. She reached for his arm and laid a soft hand over the richly designed robe. "Tell me what ails you, mellon-nín."

He returned the gesture briefly and his warm hand squeezed hers and in a flash released, lest the elves present drew the wrong conclusion. "I used to hunt with Tauriel often. It was I who taught her how and she was a good hunter."

"Silvan elves are natural hunters," Celeborn reminded him. "As are Sindar elves. It's the Ñoldor who would starve if not for their ability to drop a seed in the ground."

"If you wish a fight, Moriquendi, I will remind you how several thousand of us survived for five years on the Helcaraxë, where a seed would have frozen."

"I want a story of your journey," Arwen quickly tossed out before her grandparents started another silent war of mental communication, or worse, verbally in front of everyone.

Galadriel looked around at their friends and they were nodding. She let her gaze settle on Gandalf and he smiled.

"I can wait until I go to bed for a pipe. I know elves dislike smoke inside." He voiced his desire to hear a story.

"Very well." She thought of what story to tell, aware Legolas would be hearing one from her lips for the first time of their crossing.

' _Don't tell anything about deaths this close to Legolas losing his friend,'_ Celeborn mentally admonished.

With a gentle flow of warmth through their bond and linked fingers, Galadriel began. "With Manwë's dire prediction fresh in our ears, Uncle Fingolfin led us onto the icepack under the stars, which were brilliant and lighted our path. It was a frozen beauty I've not seen since and although we have tried with songs and poetry, one had to have been there to understand. Lights color of the rainbow danced over our heads continuously and the grinding and cracking of ice breaking under pressure of smashing together with great force under our feet made sleeping all but a distant memory. Our fëas still glowed from the light of Aman's trees, so we had light all the time around us and with the flick of a finger could summons enough heat to cook the fish we caught by chopping holes in the ice."

"Can you still cook that way?" Arwen interrupted.

Galadriel favored her with a smile. "I don't know where my powers from that time end and the ring begins, but yes, I have power to cook fish with a wave of my hand. The first year wasn't so bad. Had we known just how horrible it would become; we most certainly would have turned back and thrown ourselves upon the mercy of the Valar, but we were two years into our journey when fate turned against us. We entered a darkness where the stars fled and rarely did we see the lights dancing in the sky. With their departure, so did our good spirits. The Valar didn't tell us how long the crossing would take or the toll it would extract in the form of blood. Food became scarce and a slow starvation settled upon us. The ice became too thick to chop down to open water.

"Was that before or after the ice started claiming lives?" Legolas asked.

Galadriel looked calmly upon him; ascertaining telling the truth wouldn't adversely harm his recovering fëa. "We lost a few, including Elenwë before that time. She was also a third cousin to Glorfindel from his mother's side. She was among the first to fall to through the ice of the Helcaraxë and we almost lost Turgon when he in went after her. They were missing for several days and when we found him, he was sitting by a slab of ice. Incased inside the block was Elenwë. He said when he pulled her from the water, it was so cold that she froze immediately and then he couldn't get her away from the bubbling water and each time water burst from the ocean and covered her, another layer of ice was added. His adar, Fingolfin, convinced him to continue and not die with his wife for the sake of Idril Celebrindal, their daughter. I wasn't there, but with Idril and was told by those who followed after Turgon, that they pushed her into the water and watched as she sank from sight. Our fëas were in shock for many months and all we could do was trudge deeper onto the ice."

She felt Celeborn wishing to speak into her mind and paused for him.

' _I know this story will resurrect painful memories. Tonight, I will remove them with those you love the most.'_

' _And that is why I chose you above all ellon to mate with.' "_ Then the white bears came. They would follow us like a pack of wolves follows the migrating herds of bison on the plains of the Rhûn. We killed all that came close and learned not to throw anything away and hides became fur hats and by the time we passed the ice, all had a warm hat and we looked like a field of cotton."

She got her desired result when a few laughed.

"One day a strange light appeared in the sky and lightened our journey; giving us a sign that we would not perish alone and forgotten. For a year we walked in the direction of the rising globe and we called it _Isil_ and it reminded us of our dear dead tree, Telperion. I was awake and watching over Idril allowing her rest. She was but an elfling and the trip taxed her harder than adult elves. _Isil_ had just sank into the west when another light was dawning. I quickly woke my charge so she could also see what we were looking at. It grew so bright we had to shade our eyes and for the first time we saw the ice in shades of pink and orange, with hues of blue and green in the shaded parts. It was beautiful. That first day, we walked and marveled at a world where the sky was blue and no stars could compete with its power. That night, we watched our first sunset and the oranges and pinks were so deep in color we wept for joy."

Galadriel saw several older elves nod that they too remembered that day. She cast a glance to her right and felt Celeborn a great distance from her in his mind. "Your thoughts, my lord?"

Celeborn frowned, "I hardly think an elfling of just past a hundred and forty capable of fully appreciating the wonders of that first day."

Laughter erupted around the room.

"That's what you're thinking?" Galadriel's tone chilled to the temperature of a cold night on the Helcaraxë.

Again mirth rolled out of mouths, including her granddaughter and Legolas she noted with satisfaction.

' _It worked. His fëa has lifted,'_ she silently told her husband. "For weeks we traveled in this newness and when the light didn't leave us, we knew the Valar gifted it to light our paths. One day we saw darkness in the distance. Unsure of what was before us, Fingolfin sent his son, Fingon and Glorfindel ahead to scout for us. The next day they returned, bursting in excitement we could feel radiating from buoyant fëas. Running to us they slid on the ice in their boots until stopping before Fingolfin. 'Ahead is the end of the ice. We made it,' Fingon shouted and word passed to the end of the line. We broke into songs of joy and praise to the Valar for seeing us this far. Three days and our feet touched rock. We were on the side of a mountain range where nothing flourished. We turned south and within days started seeing birds and open water along the shore where fish once again was on the menu. We all braved the icy water for sponge baths and I can still remember how wonderful and invigorating it was."

"I can take you hunting with us and you can dip into the icy ponds in the mountains," Celeborn added with a straight face.

"And on that note, I just ended the story." Galadriel rose and turned, holding her hand out to him. "You promised me a glass of wine and now I need to warm up."

Celeborn took it and fluidly rose giving a rare public kiss to the offered hand.

Arwen jumped up for a goodnight kiss to each cheek. "Daernaneth, I promise when I return, we will look at wedding gown designs."

Legolas' eyes grew wide and he saw several knowing looks thrown at him. He wanted to blurt out, 'You said I wasn't marrying her,' but held his peace.

"I have several in mind. For now, enjoy being young and free."


	2. 2 Jötunheim

Lióni stood ramrod straight before her angry father and listened to him shout that she would not shame the family.

"…an ye will do as I say or I'll have ye thrown in the dungeon until yer weddin day. Is any word I'm saying piercing your tiny brain?" He stopped his pacing and shoved his large nose into her face.

"Am I to be bartered like a side of beef?" She fought to keep her tone from matching his, although her blue eyes flashed bolts of lightning at him. It was the one trait she couldn't control. They lit up a room when she was happy and flashed warnings of a storm approaching when crossed. Now her father was seeing tempest of a wild sea that refused to be tamed.

"Dóvad, please no more." He turned to his wife that was pleading for a ceasefire in her concerned expression. "Was I any less fearful of wedding you?"

"We had an arranged marriage and it went….," he trailed off and sighed. "It's that we need the trade agreement now more than ever with the increasing hostilities from the Easterlings. Lord Skafid wants assurances we will uphold our end of the bargain. I have nothing else ta offer him. His son is ah good lad; strong an will be ruler of the Stonefoots in due time. She could do much worse."

"Maybe if we let the youngsters court before this arrangement, they will naturally decide to unthaw and wed," Lári, Dóvad's wife reasoned. "We see the unhappiness this rash decision is bringing our daughter."

Dóvad pointed a finger at her. "Ye are supposed ta find ah suitable lad an lass for our children an prepare them. It is on yer head that I have ta step in an handle this. Ye have one task past rearing dwarflings an that is ta find suitable mates for them, an ye failed."

"Don't you take that tone with me," Lári snapped. "I still carry the memories of running from the mountain and being ordered to come east to the Red Mountains. My father would have me marry a Longbeard, but the price for us staying in Jötunheim was an arranged marriage of the highest ranking dwarrowlass and we both know that was me. I'll not forget your father looking at me as if I was prime beef and making the decree when I was just a dwarfling of forty-five. Oh, I waited and prayed someone would come and rescue me, but nobody did. I couldn't stand by while thousands of Longbeards were cast into the cold and hostile country teaming with the enemy we had just fought through, so I married you when I came of age. And I bore you two children and tried to be a good wife. I did my duty for my people. Who knows, I might have been chosen to marry Prince Thorin had Smaug not come."

"Ye keep throwin up yer status as granddaughter ta the lord that was best friends with King Thrór. Well if Lord Nár thought so much of his kin, why did he send his daughter an granddaughter this way?"

In a calm tone that covered an aching heart, she softly replied, "He had a duty to the royal family and didn't want distractions. What do you think it cost him? Knowing he would never see his family again." Her voice and anger rose with each word until she matched his shouting and tears burned her eyes.

Lióni stood still, grateful attention was off her for the moment. She pitied her mother, having to marry the Lord of the Blacklocks son to insure the Longbeards received fair treatment. A heavy knock on their private chambers interrupted what her father was building to say. Seeking to escape his wrath, she quickly answered.

An older dwarf looked her up and down, judging her worth and ability to bear heirs. Beside him was a younger version; complete with identical stocky build, ginger hair and beard that was braided into one long tail from four locks. "Are ye the lass my son, Trefid, here is ta wed?"

She colored as their eyes ran over her figure. She was tall for a dwarf and slender with light brown hair that tended to have blond highlights if she spent much time in the sun. Her bright blue eyes flashed in annoyance when the younger kept looking at her bodice with a smirk.

"Well, lass, are ye addled in the head? I asked ye ah question."

"I am the one you are bartering for." She stepped back and allowed them entrance.

"I just stopped ta see if ye found yer missing daughter," Skafid stated. "Lady Lári, I greet ye this fine morning." He turned back to Dóvad. "The contracts are finished. I would like ah meeting ta go over trade details an meet your lords ta discuss trade."

Dóvad nodded his agreement. "Aye, now is ah good time ta talk trade an look at the contract of marriage."

* * *

Almost all the lords crowded into a room designed for meetings. Chairs lined a long stone table and also ringed the circular hewed walls. Dóvad and Skafid sat facing each other while the primary lords from each clan took spots at the table, keeping with their own along each side. They were well into discussion when through the wooden door they heard in the distance the horn at the main gate.

Dóvad stopped talking and listened. It sounded once more. "Dwarves are at the gate. Did ye have more Stonefoots coming?" He hoped Skafid didn't plan on an army following to make war if things didn't go his way. The treachery of other clans was well documented in the annals of dwarven history.

"Not I. Winter isn't when dwarves usually travel. The only reason I did, is I want this matter settled by spring when we plant grain on the slopes for our winter ale."

The door opened and a soldier rushed in. "My lord, there is a band of dwarves at the gate demanding entrance. I've never seen the likes of them before. Some are bejeweled with golden armor and they look ta be warriors."

"How many?" Dóvad now feared he was being set up and if he opened the gate, more would pour forth from hiding and attack his city.

"About forty. They are on horses and have rams laden with packs."

"Do ye wish me ta send them packing, Father?" Tóvad, son of Dóvad asked. He had been sitting beside Trafid along one wall.

Dóvad stood, "I'll see what they want myself."

"I'll join ye," Skafid also rose, and so did the room. All wanted a glimpse of these warriors who wore golden armor.

Dóvad led the procession to the main entrance and motioned his warriors to make ready. When all was in place he ordered the door opened. At first the intruders were masked by white vapor from their breaths and those of the animals and then they rode into the hall.

In they came, two abreast and in the lead were two clad in the richest of golden armor, and behind them equally decked with golden armor were four more before plainer garbed warriors followed. They looked around and let the ponies walk up to the line of dwarves waiting to greet them. Finally Thorin focused on the leaders.

Dóvad and Skafid threw stunned looks at each other when the two in the lead dismounted. The great hall quickly filled when word spread of strangers not to be missed. As one, the lords bowed low before the two dwarves causing a stir among the inhabitants who witnessed their lord paying homage to complete strangers.

"Welcome to Jötunheim, King Thorin," Dóvad greeted warmly. A collective gasp was heard and several pushed to stand behind Lord Dóvad, with eyes full of wonder.

Thorin let his gaze roam over the collective before responding, his face somber and the one at his side was gripping a Warhammer with the Durin crest. "It is good to see Longbeards in the greeting party. That they came back with you from Azanulbizar, Lord Dóvad, speaks well of your leadership."

"Aye, the title I carried back from Moria with me. I will be delighted ta lift ah cup with ye an rehash our glorious war, but now, m'Lord, please come an allow me ta show ye quarters. Lunch is almost ready an I invite ye ta my family home this evening. News from afar is fodder for our hungry ears." He broke off when Thorin raised his hand. Dóvad noticed hanging at his side the hilt of a peculiar looking sword.

"We will meet with you right now, and Lord Skafid, please join us. Please see to my guards and provide for them. We will accept food and drink while we have a meeting." He gestured to those crowded behind him. "My lords who travel with me; Dwalin, Óin, Nori, Bifur and Bofur. They will accompany us and I don't wish to impose with so many on your wife without due notice."

"Nonsense," Dóvad protested. "For years I've heard my wife sing yer praises an ye would insult her ta refuse."

Thorin nodded his acceptance. "My lords and I would enjoy seeing Nár's kin."

"With your permission, our sons would benefit from listening to your wisdom. You remember my son, Tóvad; an underage lad who fought bravely at Moria. An his fighting companion, an soon ta be brother-in-law, Trafid, Skafid's fine son. They are our successors an need training in dealing with Durin's."

"Dealing with Durin's?" Dwalin questioned and had the satisfaction of seeing the speaker cringe.

"I mean no disrespect. We all know the linage went ta the Durin's, an with it special powers like talkin ta ravens. When ye sent that raven with the note on its leg; we were honored ye remembered us so far away."

Thorin pierced him with glacial blue eyes. "I remember a raven returning to me with a note saying the Blacklocks wouldn't fight." He skewered Skafid next. "Nor would the Stonefoots. You mentioned not keeping me standing here," he prompted.

"Ah yes, this way, my lords."

As Thorin passed the younger dwarves, he paused. "Join us."

Tóvad and Trafid straightened to their full height and bowed to the king and trailed the lords Thorin brought with him. Not invited, the remaining lords descended on the guards for information, only to step back when weapons were brandished. The taciturn guards didn't answer one question of the dozens thrown at them. A lord assured them their animals would be taken to the barns. Grabbing personal bags from the rams for themselves and the Lords, they acquiesced and the only words spoken were by their arms master stating they would stay in place until discharged. They did accept food and ale and ate while watching the inhabitants go back to their lives, leaving only dwarflings to gawk.

A lass approached the one who spoke. "I wish to become a warrior of the Longbeards. Take me with you."

Svin looked her up and down. "Nay, lass. Ye couldn't handle our life."

He saw fire in her eyes. "My great grandfather was Lord Nár. I'll take my petition to your king." With that, she stalked through the sniggering dwarrow lads to her family chambers. Her eyes smarted like smoke from a fire drifted into them. _'It's not fair,'_ she thought, _'Tóvad is treated with respect due a lord's son, but I am just a daughter, good for nothing except what sons I can produce to keep the claim of leadership in this filthy hole should Tóvad come up dry.'_

* * *

Thorin sat in Dóvad's chair at the head of the table in the room just vacated. He motioned for Dóvad to take the chair to his left and Skafid to sit beside the lord of Jötunheim. He waited for the younger lords to scuttle into chairs just down from their sires. Dwalin sat to his right and across the table from Dóvad, with Óin at his right, ear trumpet firmly in his ear. Nori was seated next and Bifur and Bofur sauntered down the table and Bofur took up residence in the chair opposite Thorin with Bifur to his right on the same side as the lords from the Red Mountains.

They no sooner were seated when the door was thrown open and servants rushed in with ale and platters of salted pork and seasoned chips deep fried in fat from the same animal. Plates were piled high and Thorin was served first. A large cake was set in the middle of the table and the servants left pitchers of ale and water beside it.

"Do ye require anything else, King Thorin?" The servant addressed Thorin and not his lord.

"No, this is fine," Thorin spoke and while his mouth was open shoved a chip in.

Dóvad motioned the servant to leave and once the door was shut and they were alone, he dug in to his own plate. They ate in silence for a few minutes and Dóvad spoke first. "What brings our king in the dead of winter ta Jötunheim?"

"Did ye fight Smaug?" Skafid followed with what was on his mind.

The younger dwarves forgot to eat at the mention of the firedrake.

Thorin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he half rose drew _Orcrist_ and tossed it down the table where Bofur easily caught it. He motioned to the cake and Bofur jumped on the table and walked to it, careful not to spill the pitchers of ale. Everyone watched as he looked around and counted with the blade moving up and down in tempo to his motion. Then he cut down with the tip of the blade ten equal sized pieces. Carefully, he scooped each slice and dropped it on a plate, not concerned if food was still present. Lastly, he impaled a cloth napkin and wiped the blade. Tossing it back to Thorin, he walked back down the table and jumped onto his chair and then sat.

"I would have licked the blade clean, Thorin, but don't know if you cleaned it since the battle. I don't fancy orc or troll ruining this fine cake."

"I'm sure the elves cleaned it," Thorin retorted and dug into the cake. Plate clean, he pushed it away and motioned for the Red Mountain lads to gather them up. They hurried to do the king's bidding and dumped all but the tankards and pitchers on a chair by the door. When they sat, Thorin started.

"Turns out we didn't need your help retaking the mountain. We drove Smaug from the mountain with just a handful of dwarves and a hobbit. A man from Lake-town killed it. Then Dáin Ironfoot brought his army and we had a small battle when elves, men and dwarves took on Sauron's fell creatures in the form of trolls and orcs. There, you have just been brought up to speed on our year. Now we are here to collect a few dwarves for the mountain. How many Longbeards live here now?"

"That is quite a story, King Thorin," Dóvad replied, although not sure he believed one word of it.

"Do you need help answering," Dwalin spoke while the Company laughed.

Dóvad remembered this Durin from Azanulbizar, whose temper was short and arm lethal. He had to admit, the Durin's were also the most skilled warriors; another gift from their creator, Aulë. "We lost a lot of Longbeard dwarrow at Azanulbizar as you know, but many of the dwarrowdams still live. I would say the numbers are stable. Three thousand came and that number still resides here with the addition of births."

Thorin's eyes shifted to the next dwarf. "Are any Longbeards in your halls?"

"Aye, about two hundred migrated from the Iron Hills and Jötunheim over the years; mostly for work or marriage."

"By order of the king, all unwed dwarrowlasses of age and linage to marry with a Durin will be brought to Erebor and presented to the king. From among all available lasses, wives for those who fought to reclaim the Lonely Mountain will be allowed first choice." Thorin spoke by rote, a direct quote from his father.

"We were just looking at ah marriage contract when you arrived," Skafid interjected. My son here will marry Lord Dóvad's daughter this spring."

Bifur got up and rummaged through papers on a side table and found the contract. He dropped it before Thorin and returned to his place, walking behind the dwarves and he smiled over their heads to the Company knowing he was making the lords nervous.

Thorin read the contract while the room waited. "How far along is this courtship?" he finally asked.

"They met for the first time this morning," Dóvad admitted.

"So no stone melting into molten lava yet?" Thorin pressed.

"I'm sure it will in time," Trafid spoke for himself.

"This contract is hereby annulled. The lass comes with us. You will ready all Longbeards who are able and wish to return to Erebor," Thorin issued his diktat.

"I object, King Thorin," Skafid cried in outrage. "That lass isn't anything ye want ta mess with. She has rejected all attempts at courting from the local sons of lords, so her father made this agreement with me. She is ah wild one who won't be tamed."

"We leave in a week. I will address your clan and the Longbeards in the great hall after the meeting. See they are gathered. Also, I will stay in a chamber with my lords an kin."

"Nay, King Thorin. I have a fine sets of rooms for ye alone. An yer kin an the other lords can each have their own rooms. Ye need not bunk together. The guards will find the soldiers halls most comfortable."

Thorin pierced Dóvad with another icy gaze, although his expression was indecipherable. "I have spent many nights on the ground in the dead of winter and many more hot summer nights. While you were snug in a warm bed, I moved about, either seeking work or overseeing my people. I hope to never seek comfort above duty. A chamber with multiple beds is fine. I'll not put your servants out."

Seeing dismissal, the lords and their sons left to spread word that the king would address them momentarily and Erebor was liberated.

Alone for a couple minutes, Thorin looked at his faithful companions. "I hope our guards don't talk."

"They'll face my knuckle dusters if they do," Dwalin vowed.

Bofur was snooping around and opened a door. "Here is a latrine. Maybe we could stay here and sleep on the table."

"If I don't like where they put us, I'll do just that," Thorin replied while he shuffled through papers to see what the lords from the two realms were up to. It was nice of them to forget and leave sensitive papers for him to read he decided and looked at numbers of warriors Skafid was loaning Dóvad due to orc and Easterling activity the southern clan was dealing with.

* * *

Lári held her mother, Risári's hand. Did you hear the news, mother?"

"I am not that old and will journey with the young king and die in the mountain. Did you get a look at Thorin? Has he grown into a Durin to be proud of?"

"No. By the time I pushed through bodies, he was already gone. I'm told by our servant, who was close enough to see and hear, that we are hosting Thorin and his lords here tonight. I am making ready now and just took a moment in my excitement to find my mother. I hope Dóvad brings him here for a private visit first." She looked wistful and sad. "I always thought he and I would wed. As a child, I used to have a monster crush on him."

Risári smiled and patted her daughter's hand. "I know. It didn't help we were plotting in front of you. I wish your father and grandfather hadn't died at Azanulbizar. It was a dream they took to their graves; seeing the mountain full of dwarves again. Kár used to talk of nothing else. They were interrupted when the door slammed behind Dóvad and Tóvad.

Lióni joined her mother and grandmother for a report.

"All my plans just got thrown off ah cliff," Dóvad howled in rage. "That upstart pup of ah king has decreed all marriageable lasses be taken ta Erebor an paraded for Durin's first."

"Me too?" Lióni squeaked.

"Especially ye, lass. Thorin read the contract and declared it void. "We leave in ah few days for Erebor."

"All of us?" Tóvad questioned.

"Maybe not you, son. Ye'll stand in for me as regent until yer mother an I return. That is unless his highness has other plans."

"I hope he makes me go," Tóvad replied enthusiastically.

"Did he tell you how Smaug was defeated?" Risári inquired.

"Some nonsense that ah handful of them ran the firedrake from Erebor an ah man killed it," Dóvad answered.

"I didn't want ta appear ignorant, Father, but just what is ah hobbit?" Tóvad hoped he knew.

"Blast if I know," Dóvad growled. "Must be ah powerful being if all it took was one of them."

* * *

Thorin, with the Company to either side stood on a raised platform and looked over a crowd of at least ten thousand. He briefly told them what transpired, leaving all mention of Thráin from his narrative. Still he had them spellbound and like when he influenced the citizens of Lake-town to his cause; once again his mesmerizing words and tone rang out encouraging Longbeards to go home to Erebor. When he was done, the cavern all but shook rocks down upon the rowdy dwarves shouting and clapping. Thorin breathed a sigh of relief that only the Company could discern.

The Longbeards wanted to see their king and crowded around him. With Dwalin by his side, he answered questions and greeted old friends he fought with.

Dóvad pushed through dwarves until by Thorin's side. "Sire, yer chambers are ready an I will be honored ta show ye our baths."

Thorin twisted his head to look at him. "Give me a couple minutes."

"Take all the time ye need," Dóvad offered.

Thorin nodded and turned back to a Longbeard family who lost all their males at Azanulbizar. "Dam, I will lead any Longbeard from these halls who wish to return to Erebor. If you can walk, I will get you home." The crowd of Longbeards was still gathered and the Company talked with as many as they could, assuring them the mountain was as they left it.

An hour passed swiftly and Dóvad waited until Thorin joined him. The servants quickly found the other lords and they were shown a chamber like Thorin requested. It greatly resembled Dáin's rooms in his family wing when Durin's visited. Dóvad waited while they rummaged through packs and pulled clean undergarments.

Bifur asked in Khuzdul, "Where are yer bathing caverns?"

Thorin motioned six of his warriors he used as guards to him and the Company to stand guard while they had their first bath since leaving the Iron Hills.

Dóvad escorted the clean dwarves to his family chambers.

Thorin was looking for Risári as soon as he entered and upon spotting her, strode directly to greet her first. She rose and curtsied deeply. "Lady Risári, Kár spent many nights around the fires in the mountains above Moria telling us about life in Jötunheim, and especially his family. I never got to personally tell you Nár and Kár were inseparable during the years we tried to retake Moria. He died bravely and was buried with Nár in the level above our king and kin."

"Did you ever find Thráin?" she asked with caring.

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at the Company. They were grinning at him. He quickly turned back to her. "I searched, but never found him. Gandalf the wizard came to me and said it was time to retake the mountain. I focused on the quest and it was more than a year before we reached the mountain from the time the wizard tracked me down."

"That you are here is like a dream. You remember my daughter, Lári?" Risári asked and looked to her daughter, who moved to her side.

Thorin nodded his head, "I would never forget a dwarfling friend; especially as we were always placed in the nursery together when the adults wanted to party."

Lári laughed, "Well we were almost the same age." She motioned for Lióni to join her, which was customary when dwarrowdams were in the presence of royalty. After introductions, the dams would fade into the background and let the dwarrows talk around the dinner table. "Dóvad and I were blessed with a daughter also. Meet Lióni. I don't know if you remember, but she favors grandmother Lióna, who she is named for."

Thorin's eyes drilled the lass and she was surprised he was so handsome for a dwarf and wondered if the Durin's were also blessed with fine features as a gift from Aulë. Instead of polite prosaic greetings befitting his stature, she stated with confidence, "I am to understand I am being summoned to Erebor to be chattel to any Durin who's looking for a wife? I do wish to relocate away from this dreary hole in the mountain, but want to be considered for warrior training instead of breeding services."

There was silence for the space of two heartbeats and then Dwalin roared with laughter, joined by the rest of the Company. Over the mirth, Dóvad was profusely apologizing for his daughter's behavior and the dwarrowdams were scolding her for addressing the king in such a froward and rude manner.

Thorin didn't smile or join in any dialogue with either parent. His cold eyes remained on her until she squirmed. When the noise and comments from the Company died down, he responded. "Are you any good with a weapon?"

Seeing the king wasn't sending her to the dungeon or a public flogging, she braved a more civil answer. "I am capable."

"You're just ah dwarrowlass," her brother, Tóvad, scornfully cut in.

"I can best you half the time," she rejoined and stopped when Thorin raised his hand for silence. "The king will decree who among the lasses will wed which eligible dwarrow. Maybe you will get lucky and nobody will choose you."

Lord Skafid and Trafid entered last and Dóvad stated eagerly, "Ah now we can eat. All our guests have arrived."

* * *

Thorin and the Company carefully provided additional details of their journey to Erebor and mentioned Bilbo often. Tóvad found his opening when a lull in conversation provided an opening. "King Thorin, I admit to not knowing what a hobbit is. Are they great fighters?"

Even Thorin laughed. It was Bofur who answered. "We met at his home in a place called the Shire. That's where they live and it's southeast of Ered Luin by about two hundred miles and like us, most live in hobbit holes that are quite comfortable. It is some of the richest farming country you'll ever see. They can grow anything there and hobbits are natural farmers and love the dirt. They go barefoot and have hairy feet that don't seem to feel cold or heat on their souls. As for being fighters, Gandalf told us on the journey of a few hobbits that did fight orcs when they attacked the Shire, but our hobbit was a burglar. That's what Thorin hired him for."

Skafid put his ale down, "King Thorin, why would you need a burglar? Did you not take enough supplies?"

"He was hired to steal the Arkenstone."

"Why would you steal what is yours by birthright?" Risári asked astounded.

Thorin paused. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. He woke the dragon and it gave him chase. We mounted a plan to immolate him in gold. He shed gold all over the countryside when he flew away. He torched Lake-town and their bowman, who is now king; a man called Bard fired a black arrow into his heart because of a chink we told him was in the armor. He saw it."

As soon as Thorin stood, he excused himself and those with him. "We pushed the ponies hard for the last three days and I need rest. Thank you." He led his Company away and as Dóvad shut the door, he saw six guards move off the wall and follow the king and lords.

"Thorin is keeping his personal guards close," he disclosed sitting in his favorite chair and reached for his pipe.

"Is it just me or does anyone else find the king coming here personally odd?" Skafid observed.

"I've been in shock that he is here ta ponder why the king paid us ah visit. But you're right; something isn't adding up," Dóvad agreed. "Another oddity is his insisting Fræg go with them. They would only take ah healer if there is going to be deaths. Maybe this is a scam an the mountain is still under the control of the dragon." He looked at his mother-in-law. "Well, Risári, ye know the Durin's better than most."

"I think ye are a couple fools. Thorin came personally to escort us home. If you really knew the Durin's; you would understand their loyalty to the Longbeards. They could have come here, but they chose the roughest route and hardest life. I'll not have their reputations impugned with fearmongering. I will be going with Thorin."

"So will I," Lióni added her opinion.


	3. 3 Flight Of The Ravens

"I'm afraid your plans to teach my lords Sindarin hasn't met with much success, Lord Erestor." Thráin issued half an apology in his tone.

They were eating in the king's chamber; just the two of them so they could have a private meeting without the many interruptions the king faced daily. Dáin was happy and could spend a rare night with his own family for an intimate meal. In deference to Erestor, Thráin spoke the language of the elves, although Erestor was almost at ease with Khuzdul as he.

"I understand the needs of the kingdom come before a language lesson. You couldn't have foreseen attacks that took most of my class in different directions." Erestor's soothing tone let Thráin understand he didn't hold a personal grudge.

"I finished the book and was wondering if our library had any other's on the twins or elves that I got to meet recently. I know you have been helping Ori learn our own Hall of Tomes."

Erestor nodded and took a bite of stew made with provisions from the Iron Hills. He had to admit it was much better than the stale fare he ate before Dáin's wagons started regular trips. "I organized your small selection of elven books. I didn't see any recent additions. The latest was a book of meetings with the elves for trade; hardly entertainment for one wishing to just relax. I hope Elrond sends one with Fili about the twins' fighting years. I could request a copy if your ravens can fly over the mountain in the winter."

"We fly ravens all the time to settlements that don't have a Durin to talk to one. We just put a note on a leg. I am expecting one any day from the White Mountains. Also I sent ravens to watch over Thorin and return with any message from him. Did you see us work the ravens during the conference two hundred years ago?"

"A little bit. I saw them landing and flying off the rampart regularly. My duties to Elrond kept me tied to his side."

"We were getting reports constantly of movement in all directions. Father didn't want an attack while three realms were so close to the mountain. We feared it would be blamed on father trying to harm relationships even further with elves should anything go wrong. I was more than happy with the lesser lords and Prince Legolas and let my father smooth Thranduil's ruffled feathers."

Piket appeared from the shadows at the motion of the king's hand. Silently he removed dishes. Lastly he placed a desert of cinnamon bread sticks and tea. Pouring, he gathered the pan and left.

"If you write a note, I'll send a raven to Elrond," Thráin offered. "We can send it in the morning."

"What size paper do you use?"

Thráin held his right hand out with his index finger and thumb showing an inch. "We can wrap up to a foot of message. I put one on five ravens to the White Mountains."

"If Mithrandir were here, he could contact Elrond for me."

"If he were here, I would feel better about sending Thorin east with such a small group of warriors. The lady could use her mirror to report danger." Thráin had a thought. "Why did she never see me in captivity?"

Erestor's impenetrable face disclosed nothing. He paused while formulating a respectful response. "It wasn't your time."

"Does she only watch over elves?" Thráin was curious, not angry or resentful of being forgotten by the Valar.

"She wasn't allowed a glimpse of Verthenwë; for it would have caused Celeborn to attempt a rescue and he might have been killed. Mithrandir has indicated Celeborn's story isn't done should Sauron be defeated. He has just enough memories of a final meeting with the Valar to know the key elves during the final defeat of Sauron. The Lady witnesses whatever is pertinent to our cause and inconsequential incidents. Sometimes she asks the Valar to see something and it is granted her. She isn't allowed to see inside Mordor or Gundabad or any fell stronghold. We have speculated and the consensus is her fëa would be too damaged and she would be forced to sail. Elrond also has some foresight; as does Glorfindel." Speaking his good friend's name sent a wave of loneliness through him. He knew he would most likely sail with Elrond, but wasn't so sure his golden hair friend would join them. If any of Elrond's children remained behind, so would the golden warrior.

"And Gandalf? Does he see things also?"

"Some. He is more in tune with all races and tries to spend time with each this side of the Orocarni," Erestor replied.

"What is your take on what the Elrondion's saw?" The story that got back to him was disquieting and he was loathe to send even Dáin's wagons out.

Erestor sobered and even Thráin could see the subtle shadowing of his face. "Troubling. We are no match for a wizard. It would take one to fight one. I'm sure if we are in grave danger, Galadriel would see and somehow get word to us." To lighten the conversation, Erestor added, "I would bet she can also talk to ravens."

Thráin laughed, "I would not take that bet."

* * *

Elrond snagged his mug of tea as he moved to the window to watch the falls empty a trickle of water compared to vast quantities usually plummeting with a roar that carved this hidden valley long before Eru Ilúvatar created the Eldar. Galadriel was hailing and he automatically stepped to an outside space to allow his ring and fëa unfettered access for the power of the rings to aid communication. "I greet you this chilly morning, Galadriel. How is Lórien?"

"I am alone with my mirror and enjoying the warm sun on my face." Without any further personal news, she promptly began. "Thorin Oakenshield is at the southern stronghold of Jötunheim. I saw him for the first time a few days ago, watching in darkness Eärendil flying low. I wonder what Eärendil was looking at? He would have been over Mordor.

"Why did you mention Thorin was in the dark?" Elrond knew it could mean several things, but wanted a better mental picture.

"There were no campfires. I saw in starlight about forty dwarves."

"Good, he is being cautious. With the report of an unknown wizard and him seeing the Nazgûl firsthand for the first time, he is becoming the leader I was hoping for. The Thorin who came here a few months ago wouldn't listen to my words of warning."

Done with Thorin, she turned to her next topic. "King Thráin sent two ravens your way this morning. Look for messages on their legs. I saw Erestor with him on the rampart and believe Thráin has made another elven friend."

"I miss him here. I take all he does for granted, but he deserves a break."

"I was hoping to see the hunters looking for a mountain lion feeding on our lambs and kids. Celeborn, Legolas and Arwen left yesterday morning to hunt it down."

"Arwen? Really? I know she hunts with her brothers, but usually limits her endeavors to game meat. Does this mean her fëa is warming to Legolas?" His heart lurched with hope.

"It means she wants a story of her own to tell the twins. She treats Legolas like a younger brother."

"I don't know whether to be angry or disappointed," Elrond raged. A movement out of the corner of his eye had his head swiveling. Glorfindel, done with his morning rounds, joined him and was now pouring his own tea. Elrond held out his cup for a warmup. "Glorfindel is here. Any message for him?"

"Your iôns are with Lord Estoras, but I'm sure will find excuses to wander. They haven't been near Tharbad in centuries, so I expect they will hunt to the south for the refuge and dwarves."

"As long as they earn their keep," Elrond groused, knowing this close, Glorfindel could eavesdrop on the conversation. He was standing beside Elrond, hand resting on his shoulder to establish his own contact. He had powers he never disclosed, even to Elrond and decided now was a good time.

So it was with great surprise when Glorfindel addressed Galadriel. "Have the eagles been flying over Eriador?"

"Good morning, Glorfindel. Landroval's son, Valtron, was spotted flying through Caradhras Pass by the Galadhrim and reported back to Celeborn. It is believed he followed Mithrandir, because the timing coincided with his arrival. Mithrandir will be leaving soon for Imladris, so look for him in early April."

"I was in Aman last night and spoke with Gwaihir. He was giving a report of the battle to the Valar. Landroval was with him and they are allowing the youngest eagles to patrol in their absence."

Elrond couldn't take it any longer. "Glorfindel, how can you talk to Galadriel without a ring of power?"

He heard Galadriel laugh while his friend answered, "I tapped into your power, Elrond. I joined my fëa to yours."

"How come I don't feel anything? Like being violated?" Elrond snapped in irritation.

"It's not an invasive merging. More like when I strengthen you. Did you not feel that?"

"I felt your presence when you laid your hand on me, like I always do. Can you read my thoughts when you do?"

"Naturally," Glorfindel joked and again Galadriel laughed.

"Celeborn can hear and see through our linked fëa when we are touching," Galadriel reminded him.

"I'm aware of that. I just didn't know this snoop was doing the same," Elrond grumbled.

"Enough posturing, Elrond," Glorfindel ordered. "It will be our little secret. You know I have powers beyond any elf, including Galadriel without her ring. Benefits of being twice born."

"You mean all reborn are like you?" Elrond's natural thirst for knowledge assuaged his annoyance.

"No, none actually. I was gifted with lesser Maia powers for volunteering to return to the front lines of the battle against Sauron. It was an easy decision and I gave it not one moment's pause. My place is beside you and your children."

Elrond nodded and asked, "Would you have protected Elros and his children also?"

"I do in my own way. Have I not led your army on more than one occasion to the aid of the offspring of Elros?"

Again, Elrond nodded. "Are we done, Galadriel?"

"I will let Arwen write of her adventure and not spoil it for her. There is nothing important in the waters and I'm missing my husband. He hasn't been gone more than a day and I feel his fëa growing in distance, like when he went to Erebor."

"Pamper yourself today." Elrond advised.

"Goodbye you two." Galadriel broke connection.

Elrond moved back to the fire as a chill settled into his fëa. Gilraen entered, her reddish auburn hair flowing freely to her waist. The combs to hold it off her face were gifts Elrond gave her for her begetting day. When she arrived, exhausted with only the clothes on her back and a child on the horse before her, he slowly replaced all she lost in the form of gifts, for her pride wouldn't allow her to accept charity.

"A moment, Elrond, if I may impose?" She looked uncomfortably at Glorfindel and he quickly took his cup of tea and went to the Hall of Fire, leaving them alone in Elrond's large office.

Elrond smiled warmly. "I trust Lindir is tutoring Estel this morning?"

She nodded and changed the subject. "How did Glorfindel know I wished a private word? I will never understand elves."

The smile remained and Elrond asked, "Tea?"

"No thank you. It's Estel that I wanted a word alone with you. Glorfindel has begun his training and I'm afraid he is being rude to Erak."

"Has Erak said anything to you?" Elrond wouldn't tolerate disrespect in his kingdom.

"No, but Estel has. He was supposed to visit Erak in his cottage and he told me this morning Erak could leave now and return to the Dúnedain because he was no longer needed here. I wanted to slap him."

"His height has him looking you in the eye. I will deal with it."

Relieved, she went to her rooms to sew yet another larger shirt for her son.

Elrond sipped his tea and thought how to punish and teach in one lesson. Arwen needed no instruction in politeness and readily picked up on her mother's subtle coaching. The twins couldn't take a hint or direct order, so he had plenty of experience with youths who thought they were in charge. Setting his empty cup on his desk, he went to the Hall of Tomes where he knew the boy was at this hour. He watched Lindir patiently instructing Estel how to divide numbers.

Lindir looked up when he felt Elrond's fëa.

"I will take over Estel's lessons today," Elrond explained.

With a bow of his head, Lindir went back to his substitution of Erestor's duties.

Elrond sat and looked at the table. On it was an apple cut in half. He took his knife and cut it into several more pieces. "What is the fraction for this many parts?"

Estel looked at him with his identical grey eyes and chewed his lower lip. "Ummm, I think a fourth."

"How about more."

"Sixth?"

"What is the difficulty, Estel?" Elrond looked at him with a level gaze, not angry or exasperated; just patience of an ages wise elf.

"I know what a half is or quarter, but these other numbers; I don't understand how to find them."

"I know someone who is good at them." Elrond waited for him to look expectant. "Erak knows fractions. Why don't you ask him for help?"

Estel lowered his head. "I want to be elven and not man."

"You will be a Dúnedain warrior someday. Starting this summer, you go into the wild with Erak. He will train you in the ways of the wild."

Estel protested, "Why can't I go with Glorfy? He took Elladan and Elrohir on trips when they were young. They tell me stories of him training them when they were my age."

Elrond smiled at the memories of his sons and their excitement whenever anyone mentioned exploring outside. They were still tiny when their grandfather started taking them along the bluff away from the water and the treasures their tiny hands returned with to proudly show everyone. He returned to the lad sitting at the table. "I want to be a Maia, but am only an elf," he reasoned and saw defeat by the slump of Estel's shoulders. "The Dúnedain are superior to men because they came from Númenor, an island that sank a long time ago. Has Erestor or Lindir told you about that place?"

Estel shook his head. "I thought they came from the north and a place called Arnor. That's all I've been told."

"It's time to further your history." Elrond now knew that afternoon he would revisit Númenor; a place he hadn't seen visited since attending the funeral of Elros and staying for the coronation of Tar-Amandil. "First you must learn a simple trick to learning fractions. The larger the number, the smaller the piece. They are just numbers in reverse. Whereas four is larger than two; in fractions two is larger than four."

Estel looked at the slices of apples. He reached out and took six out of the eight with a smirk. "I claim six eighths and you can have two eights."

Elrond laughed. "Now we will learn about something called the lowest common denominator."

Estel looked confused. "What does what Erestor calls Glorfy have to do with our lesson?"

Again Elrond laughed and proceeded to explain math of fractions until he was sure Estel had a basic grasp of them.

Elrond decided to instruct Estel on the Númenóreans to insure nothing was slipped to tie the boy to his heritage. To his satisfaction, Estel eagerly absorbed the lessons and they poured over maps and Elrond told of great battles and showed how Gondor was built by them.

"I guess it's not so bad being a Dúnedain after you showed me why," Estel admitted.

"My goal is to turn you into the greatest of them, Estel," Elrond declared seriously.

Estel absorbed what he said and responded with, "Well I have the best teachers in Middle Earth. You told me Erak is also one of the best Dúnedain warriors for my time. I think I would also like to resume lessons with him."

"And you shall."

Quietly eavesdropping from a hidden doorway, Gilraen silently thanked Elrond for his patience and time invested in her son. A hand settled softly on her shoulder, startling her and she looked up to a smiling Glorfindel.

"If we don't want Estel running all over the house tonight to burn off his energy, I best rescue him from Elrond's boring lectures."

"I don't know how Elrond did it, but Estel's attitude has improved greatly."

"For Elrond it was simple. He has raised many of his brother's heirs."

* * *

Two ravens cawed loudly as they settled on the balustrade of stone outside Elrond's office. It was a cold morning and frost coated the stone, making little clawed feet slide as they tried to take steps.

"Ah, that would be Erestor's messengers," Elrond stated as he and Glorfindel hurried to the glass doors. Elrond grabbed a bowl of raw meat and berries he ordered the kitchen to prepare for when the famished birds arrived. While they hungrily scarfed the offerings, Elrond carefully untied thin twine on each leg and took the four scraps into the warmth of his office. He laid them on the table and arranged them in numerical order the ever methodical Erestor provided.

Elrond read aloud, " _Greetings, all is well here, although I have lost most of my class to duties. I am tutoring Ori and young Thorin; Ori to take over my lessons and Thorin because he is as hopeless in a classroom as the twins were._

 _Thráin is recovering his injuries and Dáin takes his right and Balin his left when he leaves the protection of his chamber walls. The Durin's are heavily armed at all times and even young Thorin spends hours daily in combat training with the best soldiers here._

 _No flying or ground foul creatures have attacked or been seen close to the mountain, though a group of woodcutting dwarves was attacked and killed by a roving band of orcs. I rode with a few warriors and we chased them into Mirkwood where Thranduil's archers disposed all._

 _I am requesting a copy of the book, 'From Elflings To Warriors' for King Thráin. He greatly enjoyed the first one. Right now he is indulging himself with the company of the dwarrowlasses and a group of prospects for Durin's have arrived from the Iron Hills. Erestor"_

"What!" Glorfindel exclaimed indignantly, achieving his desired result when Elrond raised his eyebrows. "He could have described the wine. That paragraph about orcs was unnecessary. Of course any orc near Thranduil is dead."

In response Elrond mentally shouted for Lindir and soon the elf hurried in. "Read this and find the book and bring it to me, please."

Lindir read and just as fast quietly hurried away while Elrond sat at his desk and grabbed a sheet of paper. _Erestor, Glorfindel sends greetings, to the wine he covets of course. He is miffed at you for excluding a report. I am sure that fact has not escaped your attention. What you requested will be sent. Salute King Thráin and our dwarven friends, Elrond._

Without letting Glorfindel see it, he folded a couple of times until making a crease and then ripped the strip off. He went to the patio where the ravens had finished their fare and cawed loudly at him. "You're welcome," Elrond responded as he motioned for a leg. Trustingly the raven allowed Glorfindel to carefully pick it up while Elrond rolled the scrap around one. Taking a twine he removed, he tied it on. "Do you wish to pen a note for the other leg?" Elrond inquired.

"No, I am punishing Erestor."

Elrond motioned for the birds to leave and watched then fly across the Bruinen and angle upwards to clear the cliff and disappear from view.

* * *

"Hold still, ye little bugger," Dori carped as he undid another knot on the twine over a note. Five ravens were squawking and crying for food. One by one, Dori removed paper from legs and they hopped to the food; a treat of stale grains consisting of corn, wheat and barley from the storeroom.

Taking a handful of messages, Dori hurried to the king's office where Thráin was working this sunny afternoon. Entering when Thráin summonsed at his knock, he set the scraps on the desk and started sorting them. While he worked, he commented, "Piqu says the winter is mild and all but over in the White Mountains. They flew back up the east side of the Misty Mountains and over a hunting party of elves on their return trip. The elves were closing on a raven eater. They flew low and called warning to the golden haired leader. He looked closely at them and nodded and pointed to the spot they saw the killer." He motioned to Thráin that they were ready for reading and stepped back to let the king lean over the desk.

Thráin read quietly and chuckled. "Good, they think Thorin is in charge. They are heading for Erebor within the month. Our plans are falling into place." He looked at Dori. "Make sure all the ravens are fed and thank them for their service."

Dori smiled in delight and hurried away to do the king's bidding, passing Balin entering.

Balin read the message for himself. Sitting across from Thráin, he adjusted his sword out of the way. "Should we send a raven to the Blue Mountains for an update?"

"Nay, they don't need us demanding ah progress report."

They talked about the business of ruling Erebor for about an hour when a knock sounded and Thráin yelled, "Come in."

Erestor entered and sat when Thráin motioned to a chair beside Balin. Balin greeted him with a wide smile, which he returned. "Lord Dori just delivered a note from Elrond that the ravens brought. He was disappointed he couldn't read it. Elrond wrote it in Quenya, the language spoken in Aman. Dori's main concern was did he have to learn another language."

"Anything important?" Thráin asked after chuckling at Dori's fear.

"I was remiss in detailing how I enjoyed the wine. Can you imagine most of the message your brave ravens delivered was a chastisement over wine?"

"Did I mention a few barrels of wine were brought here by Thráin I still exist?" Thráin watched Erestor's face and wasn't disappointed as a cross between reverence and disbelief flashed. "For your effort in trying ta educate ah pack of stubborn dwarves who ran away from ye at first opportunity; for the rest of yer stay, I will provide in your chambers wine that makes what ye've been drinking seem like something we soaked our dirty socks in."

Erestor was slow to respond. "Do you have any in here for me to test?"

A grin split Thráin's face and he stood. Going to a cupboard, he pulled a bottle. "I may keep ah drop for my personal consumption." He poured three long stemmed wine glasses located in a neat row inside the cupboard out of harm's way.

Erestor waited for him to sit behind his desk and speak, for the king looked like he had something on his mind.

"I hereby title you dwarf-friend, Lord Erestor. After watching you interact with my people, I don't believe you would intentionally hurt one."

Erestor straightened in his chair and cast a glance to his right, for he knew Thráin used formal speech when issuing a decree. Balin was smiling and nodding.

"Lord Erestor was always asking after our comfort when we were at his home," Balin added. "If he had bias, he hid it well."

"We have had the pleasure of hosting many dwarves at Imladris," Erestor protested lightly. "It had been over a hundred years since any graced our halls. I hope those long absences are gone for good and trade flows over High Pass as in days of old." He didn't mean to talk so much, especially with Thráin giving a diktat. He was glad Glorfindel and his wicked humor wasn't witness.

Thráin raised his glass, "To you giving freely of your time. I thank you." He took a sip and watched as the elf did likewise.

Erestor knew nothing so smooth or devious ever touched his tongue. "Taking a page out of Glorfindel's repertoire of quotes; I may move to Erebor until all barrels of wine are depleted."

Thráin and Balin laughed.


	4. 4 Winter Folly

Fræg was working in the healing wing mixing a draught when a hand gripped his shoulder on the same side his hand was holding a ceramic bowl and it slipped to the floor and broke with a crash. Spinning, he looked up into blue eyes he had a flash wanted to do him harm. "Look what ye made me do," he blustered and then noticed the tattoos all over the shaved head. Suddenly nervous, he inquired, "How can I help ye, Lord Dwalin?" Then noticed the Durin wasn't alone, but two more Durin's were snooping around opening drawers and cabinets. He saw yet two more of Thorin's lords digging into his record books. "I see ye brought the entire entourage his highness travels with. Since ye are walking and snooping an not ailing, how can I help ye?"

"Thorin isn't in the habit of being ignored. Come," he motioned with his free hand, decked in a weapon. The other hadn't moved off the shoulder and the grip was making his arm go numb.

"I wish to see my lord first," Fræg demanded.

"No."

"Fine, let's get this meeting over so I can return to something productive," Fræg peevishly snapped. "They better not steal my supplies."

Outside in the hallway were no less than ten guards who came with Thorin, Fræg noticed and wondered why he was singled out. His steps faltered when he had the stray thought Thorin knew of his blunder. He didn't think exposing a traitor king would almost start a war within this underground city. He was a good healer and by the time Dwalin stopped before a door, he convinced himself Thorin wanted him for an embarrassing medical condition he didn't wish his cousin to know about. When ushered into Lord Dóvad's meeting chamber that Thorin commandeered while in the mountain, he noticed Thorin seated at the head of the long table and quite alone in the capacious room. The door closed behind him and he jerked his head around to find the only other occupant was Dwalin.

"Sit." Dwalin motioned to a spot at the opposite end from Thorin.

He sat down and looked into the face of Thorin and his first look at a ruling Durin. He heard stories in his youth of the splendors of Erebor from the caravans who brought supplies, gold coin and precious gems. They told of the Durin's ruling in wealth and inconceivable splendor. His eyes ran over the top part of the king and armor plated with gold and he knew those stories were more fact than fable. He waited for the king to address him.

"You will come to Erebor and that is an order." Thorin spoke with authority and motioned for Dwalin to remove him from his presence before he succumbed to his baser desire to kill the healer. He knew that would displease his father.

Stunned, Fræg cried out, "Why? Why do I gave ta go with ye, King Thorin?"

Thorin remained silent as Dwalin jerked the healer out of his chair with hands that were used for harming and gentleness a rare occurrence.

Dwalin dragged him to the door and spun him around. That's when he noticed, Dwalin also had golden armor. 'Why didn't I notice before now?' he wondered.

"You will be ready to leave in four days. If you try running or hiding your family will be executed as an example. I suggest you leave any kin here in case you get a case of cowardice."

When he reached for the door latch, Fræg tried once more. "Sirs, if I've caused offense, please tell me." His secret fear was now a full-fledged nightmare. He knew he should confess all, but didn't want to be executed one minute before his time.

Dwalin opened the door and shoved him out. Slamming it shut, he sat at the table near Thorin.

"What did you glean from the soldiers?"

"I tossed out a few gold coins and bought the ale and tongues loosed accordingly. All wanted to drink with ah Durin it seemed," Dwalin reported. "By the third round they were telling of the ill-fated trip a group of miners taking refined ore west encountered with the Shriekers. They said the four who returned left here over three years ago to look for work. I believe we have them in our dungeon. I asked if anyone wanted to harm Durin's and they assured me with no proof that Thráin lives, they aren't holding you responsible for something your father may have done."

"Did they say 'may have'?" Thorin deepened voice asked, tone suggested a struggle not to shout and slam a fist into the table.

Dwalin nodded, "Aye, I questioned the usage of those words. They remembered a rumor of Thrór's gold sickness as it was whispered around campfires at Azanulbizar, although Thrór didn't have spells while his mind was on the war. Least ways I didn't see any. The highest ranking soldier stayed on after the others left. Once alone, he told me riots broke out when the Longbeards learned what the healer called Fræg said King Thráin left the battle and threw in with orcs and is ruler of Dol Guldur. He didn't know exactly what Dóvad offered them, but soon they and their families left here never to return, and the healer has been lying very low."

"He will answer to Father." Done with Dwalin's report, he turned to his next dilemma. "I don't know what I was thinking promising taking all the Longbeards with me; and now they are busy packing and eager to follow me. I never really had to make decisions for so many. One wrong decision and it is on my head," Thorin changed the subject.

"You were caught up in the moment, Thorin." Dwalin tried to console him and wondered briefly what Balin would say. He really was the smarter brother. "We need them in the mountain, so you made the correct choice."

"It will be a long, hard trip and some are very old now," Thorin growled in his deep voice. "We had all that when they came this way. We could only move as fast as our slowest dwarf and I know from Kár's stories, their journey was like ours, only shorter. I maintain Longbeards are the best of all clans. We are a hearty lot and a stretch of our legs in winter will be safer than moving that many in the summer. It wouldn't surprise me if Gróin is of like mind and already on the road from the Blue Mountains." His pep talk to himself cheered him. "I saw on our tour a fighting bridge in the warriors swimming hole. How about a sparring session before we are forced to endure another meal with the lord of Jötunheim."

As they stood, Dwalin laughed. "Dóvad seems to have gotten over his disappointment of a marriage with Skafid's son."

"He is embarrassing the lass with his overt suggestions she would make a great wife for one of us," Thorin replied with a chuckle.

* * *

Lióni, garbed in her trousers, shirt and armor, swung her Warhammer with precision and a young dwarrow yelped as the lightweight head slammed into his side.

"Match," the referee called.

The youth glared at her. "Why don't ye go back ta the dams an leave us warriors be?"

"I keep waiting for one of you to send me home all battered and bloody. If I best all in your division, I will advance to the next level and spar with real warriors," she jabbed. "Since I already fight against my brother, I am prepared." She sauntered to the referee and looked at his board. Only two more lads of sixty-five and she would fight the over seventy warriors.

One she bested earlier ran into the training arena. "The king an his cousin are sparring on the catwalk over the pool."

There was a rush and the room emptied leaving Lióni alone. She looked around and nobody was present so followed, walking softly and blending in with the cheering warriors. The entrance to the pool was a flight of steps above the walkway and an arcade was hollowed out around the pool so spectators could watch water activities and warriors trained here regularly. She peered over the shoulder of a cheering warrior, breathed a sigh of relief nobody was focusing on her, as dwarrowdams were forbidden in this all male locale. She blushed when her gaze found the objects of attention in the conclave.

Thorin and Dwalin were stripped to just their bottoms. The front laced garments were died dark blue and ended two inches down their thighs contrasting sharply with the white skin marred by scars as a testament to their lives as warriors.

Dwalin's body bore tattoos of many battles along his arms and on each thigh. Scars ran through what was once works of art making them look broken.

Thorin's body bore a massive tattoo across his back and crossed the broad expanse from arm to arm. It clearly showed the Lonely Mountain and on his right shoulder, high up, was a dragon with a burst of flame pouring from an open toothed snout. Lióni burned to ask him if that was what Smaug actually looked like and was his tail really that long as it looped over Thorin's shoulder and wrapped around his bicep. Then her eyes saw a red, raised angry scar that wrapped from front to back on his left side that was still healing. His left foot was likewise scarred and he seemed to favor it as he dodged to the side and avoided the wooden sword his partner attempted to plunge into his stomach.

Swiftly, Thorin swiped his training sword in an arch trying to take Dwalin's head off. Dwalin ducked and slapped the broad side against Thorin's thigh and a roar and curse exploded from the king's throat and a more audible snarl carried to the galley. "Point, ye blasted son of Smaug." There was general laughter when Dwalin jumped back out of reach and took a bow.

They swiftly exchanged blows that were parried with strokes the eyes could barely follow. From one end of the walk to the other, they allowed the other to advance or retreat until back in the center where neither was willing to dance along the stone wall again. They traded blows and blocked with shields strapped to left forearms, each trying to wear the other down. Swift and sure strokes had both gleaming with sweat and Lióni felt strangeness in her body. For the first time in her life, she wondered what it would be like to run her fingers and palms over a sweat soaked body and these were honed to hardness of muscle and sinew.

Thorin knew Dwalin's weaknesses as well as his partner knew his. He went for the nose Dwalin was reticent to get mangled again after an orc scimitar almost split his head at Azanulbizar. At the same time, Dwalin pivoted his body and slammed his sword under Thorin's shield and against his healing side. With an "ooofff", Thorin bent over and dropped his sword with a soft thud. Dwalin wrapped his right arm around Thorin's neck and pulled him tightly against his side. "Do ya concede?"

"I order you to yield the match to me," Thorin croaked.

Dwalin laughed. "And I order you ta cool off." He effortlessly swung Thorin off the catwalk and he dropped into the water feet first.

Thorin broke the surface and pulled his shield off and with much alacrity tried to slam it into Dwalin's head. Dwalin snagged the fast flying object without any effort and tossed it along with his to the stone and dove headfirst into the water beside his prince.

The crowd clapped enthusiastically at the match of a lifetime. Even their best warriors were no match for these two.

A voice spoke in Lióni's ear causing her to jump, "Pick the one ye want an I'll work on them about yer charms."

She colored and looked into the amused eyes of her father. "I heard about the fight and wanted to see it for myself."

He put an arm around her shoulders and guided her from the area before she was discovered. "Ye never were ah normal lass. Wanna know ah secret?"

She looked up into his amused brown eyes.

He continued, "Yer mother was ah lot like ye. She caught my eye the moment my eyes lighted on her, but I had no say in the matter of marriage. For decades, I followed her movements. She was moody an loved ta gather herbs in the mountains. I would come upon her an she would be staring ta the northwest an I knew she was thinking of Erebor an all she lost. Her loss was my gain. I was relieved when she thawed ta me an we were wed. What ye have ta do, lass, is make one of them see ye."

He almost fell over when she asked, "What must I do?"

"Ask yer mother. Dams are masters in that area." Proud of his deflection he walked her to their chambers in silence; his mind wondering what changed in his disinterested daughter.

* * *

Óin was waiting when Thorin finally emerged from the pool. He looked at the side closely, and other than a red mark where the blunted wood left a mark, nothing was broken open. "Was it wise letting them see their king healing from injuries?"

"It will give them something to talk about besides what I want with their head healer."

Nori, Bifur and Bofur crowded close and Dwalin swam to within hearing range. Thorin looked around and the area was vacated by his chosen guard and they were now standing guard lest anyone enter.

"Lord Fræg made a complaint to Dóvad, so expect the lord to press you for details," Nori confided.

"Did you find anything of interest in the healing hall?" Dwalin asked while treading water.

"Hallucinogenic herbs," Óin spoke for the three. "If Fræg is addicted to them, who knows what he is conjuring up."

"Watch him closely on the trip. Dwalin, inform the guards to be on the lookout for any secret herb consumption by Fræg," Thorin ordered and saw everyone nod.

"We've been visiting the exiles," Bofur explained. "We all are invited to different homes tonight and will pump them as to conditions they've lived under."

"What? You don't want to listen to Lord Dóvad push his lass at us?" Thorin teased.

The three looked abashed and Dwalin and Thorin exchanged confused looks.

"Well, ah lass with Nár's blood won't be chosen for one of us. King Thráin will look to either you, Dwalin or the lads," Nori stated quietly, while looking around for eavesdroppers.

"The ole cast within a cast system," Thorin replied sarcastically.

"I think Lióni is perfect for you, Thorin. I hereby bow out and leave her in your capable hand," Dwalin ribbed, while splashing water at Thorin.

"Makes me happy ta have been wed," Óin threw in, although his wife died in childbirth.

In response, Thorin dove at Dwalin and pushed him under and a water fight ensued while their intimate group of friends laughed and relaxed. Soon they stripped and joined their companions in water games for an hour.

* * *

Lióni stared in the mirror. Looking back was a skinny lass with light brown hair and large azure eyes in what she thought was a plain face. Her lips were on the thin side and her mouth too wide she thought. Her nose was too small for a dwarf and eyebrows not thick. No, she decided, no Durin would give her a second look. As she reached for a light blue gown, a knock sounded at her door. Calling, "Enter," she looked in the mirror to see her mother entering with a box in her hand.

"I think it is time for you to start wearing the jewels of our family," Lári stated and set the box on the vanity. Opening, she pulled a necklace made of diamonds and a large ruby in the center. "Your grandmother was wearing this when Smaug attacked. I wore it when I wed your father and now it is yours. Wear it tonight. I want to see if Thorin remembers it."

"I remember you wearing it for special occasions. Why now?"

Lári smiled into the mirror at her daughter. "We are going to my home where all titled dams and lasses necks are adorned thus. We would never be seen in public without displaying our status. The same will be expected of you. Remember the other night when Thorin told us our family wealth was waiting?"

Lióni nodded and her mother continued, "This necklace is pretty, but hardly the best we own. Mother and I went to the market that day and were near the main gate. This is what we would call average for Erebor royalty."

"But it is the most opulent here," Lióni returned with surprise. "Most necklaces only have one or two diamonds and those are for the wealthiest."

"Whenever a lass in Erebor gets wed, the king gifts her with a gold necklace with at least six gems. Of course, the lord's daughters are gifted with a necklace like this. Your grand…"

"I know, mother. I've heard the story many times," Lióni interrupted. "It was a gift when she married the son of Lord Nár."

Lári patted her shoulder. "I'll leave you to finish, and I like your hair tonight." She left and Lióni looked at the new coiffure. She lifted her hair in ringlets on her head, collected with combs with a few tendrils escaping to frame her face and neck. She would ask Thorin should he mention her new hairdo if elves always wore it that way.

* * *

"Please forgive my lords for making other plans this evening," Thorin stated as he entered Dóvad's home.

"You aren't the only one ta abandon us. Lord Skafid got ah messenger an hour ago an his city was invaded briefly."

Thorin threw a concerned look to Dwalin and then back. "What attacked?"

"A rogue band of Easterlings caught the door open an rushed inside, braving death ta steal food an ah dwarrowdam. The Stonefoots gave chase, but lost them. Skafid is taking his warriors and hoping a bout of fast riding will head them off before they make Rhûn Pass and disappear forever to the east. We looked for ye, but nary ah Durin or yer warriors were ta be found. He wished ta take his leave of ye personally, but time is crucial." He motioned for them to sit and had his servant bring mugs of ale.

Thorin sat, deep in thought; half listening to the platitudes he knew didn't have a grain of truth in them. "We were going that way, but I will look at the map tonight and plan an alternate route." He wasn't happy and wished to keep his group close to the mountain for safety. They could be overwhelmed on the plains, especially by Nazgûl riding fell beasts. He tried to remember if he mentioned them while talking to everyone here and decided that piece of information was still safe. He would remember to tell his lords and guards not to disclose it, but was sure they wouldn't.

Lióni entered and her father beamed with pride. "What's the occasion, lass?"

"No occasion. I am celebrating being within two matches of sparing as a warrior and not a novice."

"I think ye are beautiful, don't ye?" he turned to where Thorin and Dwalin were. They had moved to look at the map he kept on the wall and their backs were turned.

He patted his daughter's shoulder and moved to stand beside them.

Thorin had his finger along the track due west that scouted the north edge of the Sea of Rhûn. "If we take this route, we can get to safety the fastest in Mirkwood."

Dwalin nodded that he liked the plan. "Aye, we can camp in the woods at night an have fires."

"Also the weather should be better, not so cold, but the north winds will still be blowing in the plains. I'm not looking forward to facing them again," Thorin admitted. He glanced at Dóvad, "Have you taken this route recently?"

Dóvad looked at the map. "Not since the war. My caravans travel it in the summer months ta Rohan. We trade copper an silver ta them."

Thorin bit his tongue to keep from asking first about the ill-fated caravan attacked by the Nazgûl. He got lucky.

Dóvad pointed to a spot between the sea and Mirkwood. "It was there one of my caravans got attacked about three an a half years back. Shriekers took several of my dwarrow an killed all but four. It was the most I've lost since the war."

"Tell me about it," Thorin turned from the map as he requested. He went back to his spot and picked up his mug of ale, looking around and noticed the lass was gone.

Lári made her untimely entrance. "Supper is served."

They sat at the large table and Thorin asked, "Tóvad not joining us?" He kept his eyes from Lióni because he knew sometime in the distant past the dams in his childhood home told him staring was impolite.

"Please excuse him. He is readying our mounts. I plan on leaving Jötunheim in his hands unless ye think he should come."

"Find another lord. When families in the past came to Erebor for a possible wedding, the entire family came. Who knows, maybe someone will snap your daughter up." He threw a wink at the lass, and almost laughed aloud when she threw a glare back.

He took a bite and frowned.

Lári was waiting his reaction. "You don't like it, my lord?"

"I haven't had seafood since a job I did in the Havens a few years ago. It is quite delicious." He took another bite of scallops in a heavy sauce of goat milk and spices with bite sized chunks of potatoes and carrots mixed in.

Dwalin dug in with gusto. His travels took him to the coast often and he relished fresh meat from the sea. "Where does this come from?"

"Sea of Rhûn," Dóvad quickly replied. "The best time to fish is in the winter to get the meat here fresh. We place the fish in brine and eat all shell creatures. Our wagons arrived this afternoon."

"I want to speak with them," Thorin ordered. "Now back to your story."

The dams listened quietly while Dóvad resurrected the attack from what he was told by the survivors. Then he had an epiphany. "Does your commanding Lord Fræg to go with you have anything ta do with his prognostication about your father?"

Thorin looked puzzled, "My father?"

"I'm surprised ye didn't hear the murmurings behind yer back since ye arrived. Some are noising about that ye are here ta avenge his memory." Fræg made haste in searching him out and wanting to know why Thorin was ordering him to go with him to Erebor. He reasoned somehow Thorin knew and would make him pay. Dóvad told him to cooperate and reminded him he would be on the journey also.

"I spoke with a few warriors and they didn't say anything along those lines," Dwalin offered. He knew word of his drinking the night before most likely already reached the ears of Dóvad.

"When Fræg stated he saw in the fire the face of King Thráin an he was ruling Dol Guldur an alive, I almost had ah war on my hands. The Longbeards started fighting the Blacklocks an I had ta act fast. I ordered it never spoken aloud an banished those who returned with the story, an their families. I heard they went ta the Iron Hills. It took time, but harmony was restored."

"King Thorin," Risári's quiet voice caused all talking to cease and everyone looked at her. "When I heard what that lying healer implied about Thráin, I was stopped dragging Dóvad's Warhammer through the halls to the healing wing where I was going to bludgeon that worthless idiot. I would have hoped you never heard such vile accusations."

To his surprise, Thorin felt tears smart his eyes. Blinking, he tried to lighten the moment. "Who would dare stop you?"

Dóvad came to his own defense, "I took it. That way when I confronted my drunken healer, he knew I meant business. Also it sent ah message that the mother-in-law of the ranking lord had one willing ta stand for the honor of the Longbeards." He slapped his chest and Thorin nodded.

"You sure he was drunk?" Dwalin asked.

"That was his excuse. He issued ah retraction or would have joined the miners in exile."

Thorin had much to absorb and wished the evening to end. He stood and all rose with him. He turned to the dams, "Once again you have provided a feast I am unused to. That and to look upon such beauty after a life of depriving myself has made my decision to come here seem wise. What is the occasion, lass, that has you dressing for a party with your hair fixed up?" His eyes took in the necklace and he recognized Hónid's work.

With all eyes on her, she blushed. "No special event. I was in the library and saw this hairstyle in an elven book and wondered if I could recreate it. I may enjoy fighting, but I reserve the prerogative to be all dam."

He looked at the hair and noticed the color suited her completion and it was refreshing not to look upon the common ginger dwarves. He hoped his father didn't choose a ginger for him. "Most elleth wear their hair down and long. What did the caption say?"

"I'm not sure. I have the book in my bedchamber."

"I'll wait," Thorin replied and out of the corner of his eye saw Dwalin raise his eyebrows.

Soon she was back and handed it to him.

"Can you read this?" He held the book up so everyone could see the Sindar Cirth.

"No, I was intrigued with the drawings of the hairstyles and clothes," she confessed. "Nobody here can read it."

He handed it to Dwalin.

Dwalin looked at the cover. "Says here, 'Elleth of Ennor'. " He handed it back, happy he retained so much.

Thorin saw surprised written on the faces of all present. He motioned to Lióni, "Find the page."

She took it and thumbed through the pages where each seemed to have a painting of something. Stopping at a page, she stood beside the king and noticed how tall he was. She was taller than the average dam and he was a head taller than her.

Thorin looked at the page and then her hair. He looked back to the page. "Lady Celebrían on her wedding day. Lady Celebrían wore a pale blue gown of finest silk with embroidery of silver thread her father purchased from King Meneldil of Gondor, who had it delivered from the silver mines in the White Mountains mined by dwarves. I'm not sure on the next sentence, but it describes in detail the gown. She married Lord Elrond of Imladris on July 1 year TA 109. Her hair was designed by the elleth, Lady Maibia of the Havens who also is wed to Lord Taíban, Seneschal to Lord Círdan. The clips were made of silver and pearls and crafted in Khazad-dûm by Lord Mötsognir by order of King Durin IV. Her shoes were of soft doe hide and dyed the color of her gown." There were sketches of every item. He stopped reading and turned the page. His face reflected his surprise.

"What is it?" Dwalin asked.

Thorin held the book out so all could see the drawing.

"Ríllas," Dwalin read aloud. "I know that name."

"You should. Ahhh, never mind." He turned back to Lióni. "I would like to purchase this book for someone I know."

Lióni looked at her parents and then back to the king. "It's not mine, but was in our library. I'm not sure it has any worth, as nobody here can do more than look at the paintings." She overheard the lasses her age talking about that book and the strange looking elves and pretty clothes and hair pieces, so on the sly, not to be caught, she slipped into the library late one night and found the book. She was considered odd by her peers for her peculiar ways of preferring to fight than have gossip sessions with them.

Thorin fished a coin from his pocket and handed it to her. "Tell your keeper of the records, if he wishes to fight me for the book, I will be waiting." He looked around. "Good night."

When he and Dwalin left, she looked at the coin. "He gave me a gold coin."

Her grandmother reached for it. "I haven't seen one of these in a long spell. It's stamped: By Order of King Thrór and has his image on one side and the mountain on the other." She looked at Dóvad. "There is one only one place these are common as copper pennies are among men, and that is Erebor. Now do you believe him?" She handed the coin to him.

He looked and handed it to Lióni. "Orvid won't miss one dusty book nobody can read. Keep the coin an may it bring ye luck."


	5. 5 Roads To Erebor

Fárin, son of Hárin and uncle to Thorin and Dis frantically made ready any Longbeard who took refuge in his mountain and wanted to return home. The list was sitting on his desk, but he memorized the family units. Seven thousand dwarves made his hall and he only had room for two thousand. Now the ones who remained and were in physical shape wanted to go home, although many of their children who were born and raised in the White Mountains considered it home. When the arguments broke out, he called them all into his large auditorium and made the decree. "Go an see the wonders of Erebor. If ye still want ta return, I will be coming this way from delivering my ordered lasses for King Thorin ta make his wife. I remember when my sister made the long journey, an we returned with riches that made this mountain ah haven for our stranded Longbeard brethren an ah valuable trading partner with Gondor an Rohan. I would see this mountain place another queen on the throne. Besides, we need ta see for ourselves this famed Arkenstone. I hereby order all able ta make the trek ta get ready as we are leaving in ah few days. It will take three months of steady walking ta get there, an if we don't want another clan ta beat us, we must leave in ah few days." He hurried off; busier than he had been in decades.

Five days later he was ready to leave within two days. He let his mind wander back as he hustled through the halls. _The mountain hadn't seen so much activity since Thrór descended on him. He would never forget a warrior running through the halls and pushing aside anyone not moving fast enough until he screeched to a halt at the market booth where his lord was speaking with a vendor._

 _"Lord Fárin, ye'll never believe what I'm about ta tell ye, but in the distance is thousands of dwarves an they are coming this way."_

 _He remembered his face draining of all color and in what seemed like a great distance, the vendor asking if he was well. He took off running to the entrance and the doors were open and his warriors crowded into it and looking in the distance. He pushed through to the front and moaned, "It canna be. Quick, send riders an bring the leaders ta me."_

 _He watched as four rams tore off the mountain and one was ridden and the other three on leads. Soon they came racing back and his heart stopped. The painfully thin Thráin slid off one and turned to help his father off another. He strained to recognize the other two and then placed Gróin and his younger brother, Fundin._

 _He remembered rushing to them with arms open wide. As he hugged Thráin he then heard a heartbroken explanation and apology. "Ah dragon came an took the mountain. We lost ten thousand good souls an I hate ta tell ye, but Lis is among the dead, an I'm so sorry I lived." He saw Thráin's tears and pulled the skeletal body to him for another hug._

 _His under lords were questioning the others and already making ready for a group that outnumbered the inhabitants of his realm._

 _His halls became packed with dwarves and his supplies wouldn't last long feeding so many, so it was with mixed feelings when Thráin told him they were moving the healthiest north to Dunland and a mine the king of Rohan told him about. Fárin agreed to take two thousand of the weakest and oldest. That number dwindled to the thousand that now lived in his halls from that time. The pregnant dams and those with babies stayed. Over the years, some left to join their clan and some came here where conditions were better._

Fárin stopped his rapid strides when he heard one of his lords hailing.

"My lord, Fárin, I have my family ready ta depart, an we are beside ourselves ta see Erebor. I'm sure when your nephew, Thorin, sees my granddaughter; his eyes will never stray ta another lass again."

Fárin, with will, stopped himself from laughing, because he knew Lord Hepti, one of his eldest chief advisors was serious and proud of his only female offspring from his three sons. "We have ah far piece ta go an better hope Thorin hasn't found ah mate yet or our trip will be for naught," he advised.

"When is our caravan leaving?" the old dwarf thundered. "I'll not let one of those other lords get his blood into the Durin line when I've got the prettiest an feistiest lass in all the clans."

"In ah couple days, Hepti, in ah couple days," Fárin replied and hurried to meet with his son, Gárin, who was ruling the White Mountains while he was at Erebor. As he bustled down a long hallway to the side entrance of the mountain and their stables, he reflected a time long ago when he was a young, strong dwarrow and his spindly little sister, Lis, was chosen as next in line to go before the mighty Durin's as a bride for Prince Thráin. The wizard arrived on their doorstep out of the blue saying he would lead them on the long journey. He had to admit, it was the trip of a lifetime and his sister thrived in the fresh air. Other than being chased by elves, the wizard kept all that would harass them away. He wished Gandalf would ride into his mountain this day and repeat the process. That he didn't weighed heavily on Fárin. The meddling wizard usually knew events of importance in advance and intervened lest fate take a turn Mahal didn't plan.

Over a hundred and fifty years away from Erebor and on nights when he found sleep slow in coming, he would let his mind wander back through the opulent halls and chambers his sister would spend the rest of her life in. There was so much gold in the rock, a small light illuminated a room in the Durin's chambers. He got to see it all; the bedchamber Thráin and Lis would call their own and several more for when they added dwarflings. He knew his own dwarflings would never be raised surrounded by a surfeit of wealth, but was happy for his sister.

He became acquainted with the taciturn one eyed dwarf who seemed impervious to the riches that was his. That Lis adored this mutilated prince was enough to form an alliance with him when his father, Lord Hárin, passed into the Halls of Mahal ten years after the wedding. When a ragged band of dwarves arrived in his halls, he remembered Thráin's tears as he informed them of the loss of Lis and later met the dwarflings of his sister when they passed through his home as exiles. His impression of young Thorin was of a recalcitrant youth who fought the world. He saw a more stable warrior when they met again to fight at Azanulbizar and his opinion of the lad greatly improved. He hoped the king was son to the father, whom he admired with reverence akin to Mahal. When he saw Thráin's work ethic and leadership; first in Erebor as prince and then when his father wandered in madness, and heard his story of losing his eye; he knew his sister found a special Durin and was surprised he wasn't the reincarnated one.

He strode outside into bright sunlight that was warming the slopes and noted with satisfaction grass was already two inches high where sun warmed the soil. Gárin was overseeing the animals they would take and personally examining the shoes of the ponies. Fárin waited for him to finish the last animal before moving into his line of sight. He motioned for his son to walk with him, and away from eavesdropping ears spoke softly, "What do ye think we'll find at Erebor, son?"

Sensing his father wished truth, he spoke what was on his mind. "All I know of my first cousin, Thorin, we learned at the battle. He was well respected among the Blue Mountain clan an doted on his father an grandfather. I think we should try an place ah queen from the White Mountains once again in the bedchamber of ah Durin. Ye always told stories of being treated like royalty at Erebor for providing the future queen."

"Not to mention the large amount of gold an gems we carted back ta the mountain that made us the envy of all clans. Yer grandfather's standing among the clans greatly improved an they came from afar ta trade with us an meet the family who married into ah line so refined that their offspring were better warriors, smarter an prettier."

"I think we have the dwarrowlass ta do just that," Gárin added, picking up on his father's desire not return empty handed and carry back the same honor as his father.

"Do ye think Hepti's grandlass, Arli, is the one for Thorin?" Fárin pressed. The last thing he wanted was to be made a fool of by one of his under lords.

"I think she is ah beauty an ye know she turns heads of all young dwarrow here. She is spirited an smart. I don't know if Thorin is of ah temperament ta settle her down. He will have ah big kingdom ta oversee." Seeing his father's frown, he gamely finished, "Who knows, he might like her spirit."

"As leader, it is my duty ta sell our greatest product, an that would be Hepti's grandlass. Are these ponies sound enough ta tackle the journey?"

Gárin nodded. "They'll make fine pack animals for the supplies an riders. The goats are ready, as are the sheep. Ye should have plenty of food on the hoof."

"Good. I know those in Thorin's Hall are still being supplemented by the elves an will have ta hunt an dry meat. That will take time."

"But won't taking the Longbeards of Erebor home slow us to ah crawl. For all we know, Lord Gróin ordered all available lasses ta leave immediately."

Fárin walked quietly beside his eldest son for a spell, thinking his carefully crafted plans over. His son's advice had merit. "I can't ride off an leave them after getting their hopes up. They would have gone without me an I wouldn't want ta face Thorin should he ever hear I even considered such action. Nay, we will go as planned. I checked the routes an with these fine animals carrying most of the burden, have decided ta tackle Redhorn Pass instead of riding through Rohan an up the Wold. Rohan is longer an easier with early spring providing lush grass for the animals, but I aim ta get these dwarves home an our lass ta Thorin first. Besides, other than the pass, I expect this side of the mountains is safer."

"Wish I was going with ye," Gárin complained.

"I'll take yer brother. Who knows, maybe he'll catch the eye of some of those lasses for when he is old enough ta wed. Ye already have ah fine wife."

* * *

Arli looked at her pony in distrust and turned on her parents, "You don't expect me to ride this animal?"

"Mount up, lass," Fárin ordered. He overheard the disbelief in her tone and was sure he would have words with her father before reaching the Anduin.

Teki, her father hurried to help her mount as the lord was riding away and he wanted them to be in the lead party.

Her mother was assisted by their son, Eki, and they were off, ponies cantering to catch up.

"Your beard is crooked!" Vali, her mother admonished.

"I can't help it. Are we going to ride this fast all the way?" Arli wailed, both hands gripping the reins in a death hold.

"Ye'll get the hang of the pony," her brother teased.

Teki pushed his pony to the side of Lord Fárin. "My lord, ah word?"

Fárin nodded and thus encouraged the younger dwarf pushed to his side, grunting an apology for displacing Fárin's youngest son, Dárin. "Ye know yer nephew better than me. I only met him in passing during the war. Do ye think he is too old for my daughter?"

"Yes," Fárin replied evenly. "He will have ta take ah younger lass ta provide ah Durin. Besides, any closer ta his age is wed. I wouldn't worry about Thorin looking for ah real wife outside his duties in the bedchamber. He has his kin for companionship. Yer lass, if chosen will have little contact with him. Why they might not even share the same rooms."

"Ye got the notes from the ravens. Any hint ta Thorin's mindset?"

"As in what?" Fárin asked perplexed at the question.

"Well…..ye know…what his grandfather had. Ye know…gold sickness." Teki stuttered out his primary concern.

Fárin grinned at him. "Balin wrote the notes, an no, he didn't mention ah lass for ah crazy king."

The dark haired dwarf laughed with the lord and relaxed slightly. "It must have been some note for five ravens ta bring it."

Fárin nodded. "Aye, I was shocked ta say the least. I am sure I will be called ta explain myself for not sending an army ta help with the mountain or battle that followed."

Done getting anything else from the lord, Teki melded back into the pack until riding beside his wife. He leaned close to her and murmured, "If Thorin is affected, Fárin is keeping the knowledge close ta his chest."

* * *

Fili marched cockily into the elven compound. He banged on the door of a great hall which was promptly opened by a tall elf wearing a long grey robe making him appear even taller. "I'm here to see Lord's Elladan and Elrohir."

The elf looked at his attire. "I haven't seen such fine clothes on a dwarf in a hundred years." He stepped back and Fili marched into the halls of the elves at the Refuge of Edhelion. Harps and flutes grew louder as they strode the long hall and into a circular room with a round fire pit in the center and comfortable benches with thick cushions lining the outside of the room with its many windows to catch the sun every hour. The twins were playing flutes and Fili's keen hearing picked up one was playing a different timbre. When spying Fili, they stopped.

"Don't let me interrupt. I haven't heard prissy elven music since the camp outside Dale and your father's halls," Fili jested.

"I knew we should have given you to the goblins," Elrohir rejoined just as lightheartedly.

Joking over, Fili got down to business. "I am sent from Gróin."

He didn't get another word out when both fluidly stood. "If you insist on giving messages from head dwarf, we should find an area where the elves here can't blackmail your neighbors. Can't trust elves," Elladan humorously stated and led the way to a room.

"This is our sleeping area," Elrohir explained.

Fili looked around and addressed them. "Can't you each rate a room of your own?"

"We still bunk together. We tried to separate a few times, but habits from the womb cannot be broken easily," Elrohir patiently explained. "Sit," he motioned to a chair and took another one.

Elladan threw himself on a bed, but not before grabbing the pillow from its twin and propping his head and shoulders up. "I suppose if one of us marries, it will get crowded in the marriage bedchamber, but Adar won't allow us to wed beneath our station, so for now we bunk together."

"I have Kili as my bunkmate, but we don't have a choice. I didn't come here to complain about Kili. He is the greatest brother a dwarf could have and he is still struggling."

"When our naneth sailed, Adar barely made the trip home. He said later he has no memories of returning to Imladris. The pain in his fëa was raw and radiating. Daernaneth used her….um…her special powers and kept his pain from turning into rage. While she was concentrating on him, we slipped away under a full moon and hunted orcs."

Fili listened to the story Elladan was telling. "Kili wants revenge against the Easterlings and that robed wizard. What if he gets back to the mountain and then takes off after them?" Suddenly having Kili return didn't look like a wise decision.

Elrohir had an idea. "What if we tell Kili of our kills? Many times we returned home wounded and raging that our bodies failed us."

"We can tell him of the numbers we killed and it isn't a drop to the numbers of orcs who breathe. It took over four hundred years, but we finally realize the battle isn't ours alone, but everyone's. When the final push against Sauron comes, it will be all races working together."

"So you don't hunt now?" Fili asked.

Elrohir looked like the typical elf that couldn't be read. "We killed all who harmed our naneth we could find and many who weren't there. No orcs come out of Moria now and the goblins have retreated deep in the mine. We've walked through it looking and all is quiet."

"So we can move back in?" Fili inquired with hope.

"No, I wouldn't do that just yet. Evil lurks in the lowest part of a nature we've never seen."

Fili wasn't sure what they meant so got on with his message. "There was ah meeting last night of the lords and we don't have enough food to get all of us to Erebor. Lord Gróin is wondering if he could impose on you two to go to the Havens and make a deal with Lord Círdan for food an more animals for packing it. If we could get tall horses, we will find a way to reach our supplies."

"Do you have a number of travelers?" Elladan asked.

A nod was their first answer. "Aye, we have ah thousand going this year and the exiled families drew lots for ah year. It will take five years to safely get us all over the Misty Mountains."

"Most are walking, correct?" Elrohir asked.

"Of course. Only the elderly are riding and we have rounded up thirty wagons for them and those with small dwarflings or pregnant dams. We don't have the right animals to pull that many wagons, or warriors to keep us safe," Fili lamented. "Some of the wagons came from men and are tall."

"Let us think on it, Fili. I don't want to get your hopes up if we can't deliver anything. If we come up dry, what is the option to feed you on the road?" Elrohir asked and saw his brother swing his long legs off the bed and sit up.

"We will do a large hunt and kill as much elk and deer as possible and dry the meat. Each able body will pack as much as they can carry. On the way, we can also hunt and fish. Also, I plan on stopping in the Shire and see if the hobbits will part with potatoes and carrots."

"How much food will one dwarf eat from here to Erebor," Elladan inquired and his brother could read his mind without trying.

' _You are thinking of moving them all at once, aren't you?'_ Elrohir slipped the question silently to his brother.

' _If we don't, you know Adar will insist we play babysitter for five years.'_ Elladan looked to be in thought, but Fili had been around them enough to know they were talking to each other.

' _Did we have something else planned?'_

"Come on, guys, you can talk in front of me," Fili complained, "and I don't have a clue how much one dwarf could eat going that far. That kind of calculating is for elves, not dwarves."

"Alright," Elladan agreed. "We were trying to figure how to move all at once in one trip. That's why we need food numbers."

Fili thought fast. "It would depend on how many days it took. I don't have an accurate accounting because the Great Eagles flew us over the Anduin and dropped us in the foothills near Beorn's home. They took an easy week off our trip."

"Then add it on," Elladan encouraged. "Also you made good time on ponies. Triple the days for a foot journey. How long were you on the road to Imladris from here?"

"Thorin rode us hard from the Shire. We were separated until meeting at Bilbo's home. Kili and I were buying ponies for the journey, as was Dwalin. Balin was on ah trip to the White Mountains and gone for two years. He had to hustle to make it in time. The others made their way on foot from Thorin's Hall and Bifor, Bofur and Bombur were making ah last delivery of iron works to a community of men north of Bree. Thorin had to come north to Thorin's Halls for ah meeting of the clan leaders. That's where the ravens knew to go when they were sent out to all the clans and they regathered for Thorin to listen to the ravens talk to him and deliver messages." Fili paused to think. "It took us five weeks on horseback. Just out of curiosity, how long does it take you to make ah trip from Rivendell to Mithlond?"

The twins exchanged amused looks and Elladan motioned for Elrohir to answer. "If we are alone and push our horses, we can make the trip in twenty days."

"How far did we go from the Shire to your home?" Fili was curious. He knew Thorin knew, but didn't think it important to ask. He was just happy to be on the journey.

"To the Shire; about six hundred miles as the ravens would fly. By road, seven hundred. And another two hundred to here or one fifty to the Havens. Our horses are made for running, as are those of the messengers we use. We ride a hundred miles a day in optimal conditions and fifty if we have to scout."

"We didn't do that good." Fili was impressed.

"You made not quite twenty miles a day. That's a good stretch of the ponies' legs," Elrohir pointed out. "On foot with stops for whatever, expect ten to fifteen miles a day, so you'll reach the Misty Mountains in around two and a half months. I know Adar has a place where you can camp for a week or more before tackling the mountains. It is an old left over area when the armies amassed for various wars going back to the Second Age. You can wash clothing, cook, bake and relax."

"I'm glad Thorin's not with us. He would insist on avoiding the elves and push us into the mountains."

"I think Thorin of old is slowly letting go of his hatred. You must remember he was but a dwarfling when he lost his home and mother."

Fili slowly nodded he understood. "If all go at once, how will we take enough food?"

"Leave that to us, but be prepared to pay a hefty price. Also don't think Thranduil will let that many go through his realm for a mere sum of two for one on wine and a paltry fee of sixty pounds of gold, or your hostile attacker will be none other than King Thranduil. Can you talk to ravens?"

Fili looked surprised. "I think so. I never tried, but understood Roäc when he brought a message from Dáin."

"If we succeed in our plans, you will have to inform King Thráin and have him make arrangements with Thranduil for such a large group."

"What do I tell Gróin?"

"I suggest telling him to have his hunters go south of the Havens about a hundred miles and there they will find plenty of game. Tell him to hunt for five thousand dwarves. We will meet with Lord Círdan and see what help they can give."

Fili stood indicating he was done. "Sounds like just the thing Kili needs to pull him out of his deep depression."

They escorted him to the main door and Elladan's final tidings for him and his brother was, "The star will shine brighter upon our next meeting, Lord Fili. Tonight we ride to the Havens."


	6. 6 Summer Of The Dwarves

Gandalf blew another smoke ring with a ship sailing through and watched as it melted into a plume of gray smoke and drifted upwards. He sat on a root away from Celeborn, as he was well aware the lord hated tobacco smoke. The three weeks he allotted at Caras Galadhon was spent among the tranquil trees revitalized him and he was ready to leave and continue his quest of shaping events.

Celeborn, reclining on another root with a carved chair, had his back against the bole and watched the wizard play his games. The oracle of the Golden Wood waited patiently above her waters. The only sound was living waters burbling along the stream and over strategically placed basins that created small waterfalls. Celeborn didn't spend much time in what he called the bowels of Caras Galadhon, preferring sunlight and gentle breezes among the treetops, but he could look upon his wife's swanlike carriage all day.

"Finally, the Valar are speaking." Galadriel let them know their wait was over. "Our daeriôns are resting on the side of a hill surrounded by green grass and spring flowers. Their horses are grazing nearby so they are on the move. Ahh, I now see the Havens. Why, daeriôns-nín are you going back to see Círdan?"

"What is he doing?" Celeborn asked while Gandalf tapped his pipe against the root and placed it in the bag slung over his shoulder.

"He is looking in the waters of the harbor and pointing to something. A baby whale is swimming in the waters," she explained happily. "I hope it is still there when our daeriôns arrive."

"How do you know that is their direction?" Gandalf asked.

"The next place is their destination. Now I see many dwarves leaving the White Mountains and coming up the west side of the mountains to Caradhras Pass. They will be here by the end of May."

Mithrandir took this new development seriously. "Thráin must have sent them ravens. I cannot be everyplace at once. I wish Thráin consulted me before doing this."

The mirror went dark and Galadriel turned to them. "That is all we are being allowed to see."

Celeborn pondered the meaning. It was he who was her analytical half while she affixed emotion to draw her conclusions. He stood and held his hand to her and waited for them to join with the soft touch of her smooth, manicured fingers. "This will be the summer of the dwarves."

"Does this alter your destination, Mithrandir?" she asked as they walked abreast up the stone steps.

He pondered the unexpected news. "No, my duty is to get the royal family safely to Erebor. I didn't know he was moving the dwarves of the White Mountains so soon. I will leave on the morrow and follow spring north. I hope coming summer is pleasant, as I don't need your mirror to foresee months on the road like last year."

"When I last got a glimpse of Thorin, winter was still landlocked clear to Jötunheim," she informed them.

"Land without oceans does that; bitter cold winters and blistering hot summers. Thorin would do well to stay put and not try and move several thousand dwarves until the ice breaks on the Celduin," Mithrandir grumbled. "The last thing I need is something bad to happen to that group, like a surprise attack by a rogue wizard or flying Nazgûl."

At the top of the steps Rúmil waited. He bowed slightly to Celeborn, "Lord, I delivered your messages. King Fengel had one of his spells and I was forced to remind him he needed us more than the other way around. Also, I was informed his son, Thengel, is courting a Númenórean called Morwen Steelsheen and a letter of their courtship was written for Lord Elrond, due to the couple visiting when I arrived and Thengel wished him to know he was wedding a Númenórean."

Celeborn held his hand out and his March Warden sorted through several letters and placed all for him in the open palm. He looked for the one addressed to Elrond and handed it to Gandalf, where it disappeared inside his leather pouch.

"I sense weariness, Rúmil. You will find what you need in the bathing rooms." She mentally instructed servants to take wine to Rúmil where he would be relaxing to his neck in hot water. "We will be having a farewell dinner for Mithrandir tonight. Please be on time."

With a bow in her direction, he hurried away. It wasn't often he was singled out to journey away from his brothers and he had much to tell them.

* * *

The unfolding season ordained by Yavanna's decree was seen all around them in the forms of flowers, succulent grass and budding trees when the twins stopped at the gate to the Havens. The same guard who gave them entrance a few weeks before motioned them through and turned to the same currier, who with a nod followed the twins. This time he tracked them directly to Lord Círdan's palace. Satisfied they were properly attended, he returned to report to his superior.

Elladan knocked on the door and almost before he withdrew his hand it opened to an elleth, who smiled and ushered them inside. They walked through the atrium with its many fruit producing trees and up a set of stairs to Círdan's private rooms. The elleth knocked and Taíban opened and immediately stepped aside with his thanks to the elleth.

Círdan looked up from what he was reading and gave the twins a broad smile. "I trust you got ponies to Thorin's Hall?"

They gave duel nods and Elladan answered, "I'm sure you know all about it because the man stated he was coming directly here to exchange the gold for usable currency." By Círdan's smile, he knew the exchange already took place.

Elrohir took a glass of wine Taíban pressed into his hands and sat in a chair across from the large desk made of Mallorn he had imported from Lothlórien centuries before the twins were born.

"I assumed I wouldn't be seeing you again," Círdan opened the conversation.

"We were planning on scouting ahead of the dwarves. A conversation yesterday with Fili, nephew of Thorin, exposed the need of the dwarves. They are trying, but don't have enough food or animals to pull wagons. They plan on dragging this repatriating for five years. Elladan and I have a plan if we can count on the Havens, to move them all at once." Elrohir stopped talking and hoped he covered the main points adequately. After all this time, he still felt like an elfling called to explain a misdeed when in front of Lord Círdan.

Círdan remained calm, not one facial hair moved and his grey eyes drilled them. "What do they need?"

The twins internally breathed a sigh of relief at the same time. If Círdan felt their fëas lighten, he didn't allow them to see and embarrass them.

"All El listed and much more. How would you like to see the wonders of Erebor?" Elladan replied with a smile that made him look like a younger version of his father; albeit with a lower hairline on his brow.

They got their desired results when the lord's eyebrows disappeared into his diadem and as quickly returned to where they normally resided. "Why not." It was his turn to look amused when the spawn of Elrond looked at each other in surprise.

"You mean it?" Elladan almost squeaked; his tone an octave higher than usual and he knew he would pay for it later from his brother in the form of mocking.

Círdan looked to a chair by the side of his desk that Taíban usually occupied so they weren't floating endless paperwork the breadth of the large desktop. "Didn't I say the other day, if Elrond didn't come to see me, I would make the trip to Imladris?"

Taíban nodded, "Those were your exact words."

"I just may go on to Lothlórien for the winter. Galdor is more than capable of running the Havens and seeing to those who sail. He did so flawlessly during the War of the Alliance and we are not at war thanks to the Battle of Five Armies. Gather the lords for a meeting and tell them to bring all their reports on supplies from grain to goats. We'll meet first thing in the morning and I want a plan by evening."

Taíban left to do Círdan's bidding and he focused on the still sitting twins. "After you bathe, I have something to show you."

Thus dismissed, they bowed and hurried to the bathing chambers. At the door they noticed their bags were set on a table near the door and grabbed them without pausing stride. Their horses were missing, so they didn't have to tend them before bathing.

* * *

Círdan pointed to the water and suddenly they saw it.

"A whale?" Elrohir asked in awe.

"A calf was separated from its mother and we are still looking for her. For now we are feeding him."

"What do you use for milk?" Elladan inquired, eyes never leaving the eight foot baby who was slowly swimming along the edge of the stone quay.

"We were able to gain its trust and it lifts its head and we have a large skin in the shape of a nipple and it sucks down a hundred pounds of goat milk every three hours. In fact, they are getting ready for its next feeding." Círdan pointed to a spot where milk cans were being unloaded from a wagon. They walked beside the baby who spam to them with trust and lifted its white bulbous head from the water.

"What kind is it?" Elrohir asked.

"We have always referred to them as great whites."

The twins stood back while two elves fed the baby. One positioned the nipple into the mouth and the other poured. Everyone could see the baby greedily sucking its food down. When done, it swam a little ways into the harbor and floated with its back showing.

"Like any baby, it is now napping," Círdan exclaimed.

"Do you have drawings or painting?" Elrohir asked, his mind already putting the whale to paper.

"Several of our sculptors have already formed perfect copies and painters are here daily."

"I want to get a carving for Estel's collection," Elladan stated and Círdan steered them in the direction of the shop they were being sold.

* * *

Thorin stood in the cold and watched the sun set in blazing oranges and pinks. In the week he had been here, winter was yielding her death grip to spring. The temperatures were warming rapidly as the sun returned giving longer days. He hadn't experienced a spring east of the Misty Mountains since Smaug and had forgotten how swiftly changes occurred. The ocean side of the mountains tempered the weather and changes came gradually, but not here. He sensed more than saw that he wasn't alone. He turned; hand on the hilt of _Orchrist_.

"I didn't mean to startle you, my lord," Lióni apologized. She was returning to the mountain where she was sitting on the hill watching the sun set when she came upon the king, alone and looking to the northwest. She briefly wondered what he was thinking and decided it wouldn't be wise to disturb the king and his important thoughts. She was almost around him when her boot broke a twig.

"It is rare for a lass to leave the mountain and hardly alone," he commented.

She shrugged, "I like to be alone and outside where I can see the stars and sun."

He motioned for her to join him and waited until she was at his side before speaking. "I spent a lot of time under the stars. In the chambers I live at Erebor there is a private rampart and I used to spend much time there as a dwarfling. So when we were forced outside the safety of the mountain, it wasn't so bad on me. Some of the dwarves had hardly ever set foot outside the halls and they suffered exposure sickness."

She was surprised he opened up to her. Her parents warned her to never again be so forward with the king and wait for him to address her. It had been three days since he purchased the book and she hadn't seen him since. The mountain was in an uproar and every detail was examined and rechecked, so all were busy.

He noticed she didn't speak and continued, "I would think this last night in the only home you've ever known, you would be saying farewell to your friends."

"I have acquaintances, not friends," she replied coldly.

"You seem young to be so jaded." In the twilight, he saw her face flash between anger and loneliness.

"Probably from being called a mongrel all my life from the pure Blacklock lasses. It doesn't bother Tóvad, but nobody treats him as less for it. And if that isn't enough, I get the added bonus of being the ranking lord's daughter and have to endure the snickers and unconcealed whispers that a mutt is not quality and inferior to even the lowliest Blacklock and they would have respected me more if I were all Longbeard."

Thorin chuckled and she peered at his handsome face in the growing darkness, not sure to take offense at his laughing at her plight. "I am very familiar with that term. It is bandied about every time a lass from another clan is forced to marry a Durin. I carry blood from many clans in my makeup. Durin I married a Firebeard and his grandson a Broadbeam. Then Borin I married a Stiffbeard and was grandfather to Durin VI, and more recently another clan was added when my great, great grandfather, Náin II wed a Stonefoot. Nobody dared call the Durin's names or impugn our right to rule because we weren't pure Longbeards. The rest of my makeup is Longbeard or Durin's Folk as we like to call ourselves."

"You said forced to marry a Durin. Don't the lasses wish to marry one such as you?" She was fast forgetting her promise not to bother or be familiar with the king.

"A lass barely of age is uprooted from her home and taken to be presented to the king. He talks to the family and if they meet with his approval, he gives permission for a courtship to take place. If the courting couple finds an attraction that is strong enough to melt the dwarrow's heart of stone, a wedding is set and invitations sent to the neighboring realms. Word of a marriage of a Durin is sent to all the dwarven clans and elven communities nearby. Elves spread word almost as fast as our ravens can."

She found herself interested in his description and marrying a Durin didn't sound as bad as her fertile imagination pictured.

"Have courtships ever failed?" The romantic side of her, she kept hidden under a warrior attitude and armor, wanted a story of love. What was it about him that kept turning her thoughts to romance, which she considered foolish before he came.

Again his deep chuckle caused a stir in her heart. "Not failed so much as the Durin she came to marry was being punished. Our history has a few such tales, but this one is close to me." He turned to go back into the mountain so they could shut the main gate, while she pondered his last words. Did he have a marriage that didn't take? With the king outside they kept the large doors open and in the distance his guards stood watch, just outside. "Tomorrow we leave before the morning sun makes an appearance."

He escorted her inside and she was conscious of many stares, some disapproving thrown directly at her and she wondered what she did wrong now. Her father hurried to her side, gaze casting over her body and then looked at Thorin, uncertainty in his eyes on how to address his daughter being escorted alone by the king. "I hope my daughter isn't bugging ye, King Thorin," he finally stated.

"Not at all. We were coming back in at the same time. I couldn't very well leave her in the cold."

Not able to repudiate the words of a king, Dóvad turned on her. "Ye were warned not ta bug our guests."

"You taught me manners," she stood up for herself. "How rude do you wish me to be to the king and our guests?"

"Ye are supposed ta be with the dams an not flirting with every dwarrow who cast an eye at ye. Now get ah move on."

Her cheeks flamed and she didn't dare look at Thorin lest he be found laughing at her dressing down and embarrassment. She hurried to their chambers and tried to slip to her room unnoticed. Her mother was packing the last few items for the wagon allotted to them.

"Lióni, did you see all your friends?" she called out cheerfully.

"I'm done," Lióni replied truthfully without answering directly. "I need to make sure I didn't miss anything." She hurried from her mother's sight before she noticed the redness in her cheeks and had to explain.

* * *

Legolas paced the length of Celeborn's Great Hall and back to his starting place.

Emoth watched and wondered what the young prince was gathering the nerve to ask his lord. He had little time to contemplate when Celeborn glided down the steps from his private wing and into the hall. _'I believe Prince Legolas is wishing a word, my lord.'_

Celeborn turned his unreadable gaze on Emoth for a second and stopped at the bottom of the steps, eyes shifting to the end of his hall where the object of his silent message was making another turn. He watched as Legolas paused and then with determination that would make his father proud, marched evenly to Celeborn.

"A word in private, if you are available?" Legolas stated without preamble.

Celeborn motioned for him to follow and turned back up his personal stairs. He didn't stop until they were in his private study. He poured two glasses of the fine wine from Erebor and handed one to the youth. Taking a sip, he waited.

"I cannot court Arwen. Lady Galadriel said we would not wed, but I had yet to speak with you."

"Is it because she looks like her father?" Celeborn said with a straight face when all he wanted to do was howl with laughter at the look of shock that crossed Legolas' face.

"Uh, no…no, she is beautiful. I actually never thought Lord Elrond capable of fathering such beauty and when I was in her company all those centuries ago, she was veiled the entire time to hide her anguish."

"Those veils are designed to help dampen raging fëas. It is a special weave. My daughter used one when I returned her to Imladris for the year she was in residence so the household could function without her screams of pain and torment. That one soothed her tortured fëa."

"My fëa doesn't yearn for hers, Lord Celeborn. I don't know what to do. I know my adar and Lord Elrond are placing great expectations in me and I failed them. Am I doing something wrong?"

Celeborn had mercy on seeing remorse in the younger elf's eyes. "You have no control over who your fëa yearns for. Many is the time I've cursed the Valar for pairing me with the witch of the Golden Wood."

"I could have sworn my fëa was turning to Tauriel's and her me," Legolas spat in disgust at memories of his father forbidding a union.

"No." Celeborn's cool one short word had him refocusing. "If her fëa was remotely reaching for you, she would not have allowed herself to love a dwarf, or anyone. I have experience in that matter."

"Really?" Legolas had never heard one rumor of the great lord and another elleth. He briefly wondered if Lady Galadriel knew.

"I was convinced I could choose my mate and the Valar be hanged. Your rebellion is more against your adar than true love. I also distained the advice Melian was trying to impart to me and fled to the Havens of the Falas. Unlike you, I had my mate waiting for when I recovered my senses. You will not find yours this side of the sea."

"You or Lady Galadriel?" Legolas asked. At the lord's questioning stare, he clarified, "Is that wisdom from you or the lady's mirror?"

"Both. She has seen someone else for Arwen."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Legolas was starting to transfer some of his pent up anger to this lord, who in many ways acted exactly like his father.

"You must search some things for yourself. If you never came and met Arwen as a potential mate; you would always wonder. Now that question is answered and you can move on."

"Your lady told me as much. She said I wouldn't wed Arwen and her heart will be taken by another." He saw the lord's countenance darken and hoped he didn't speak ill of Arwen and anger his host.

"I'm aware you won't marry my daeriell and learned when I returned here with you that she will wed another. I truly hoped it was you, but it isn't to be." Celeborn was remorseful and conveyed it in his tone. "Is that all you wished to speak with me about?"

Legolas shook his head. "I am getting bored and either need something to do or move on. I don't wish to return home just yet."

"Did you enjoy the hunt we went on?" They only returned the day before and the story was still being circulated.

"Yes. Do you want me to patrol your livestock?"

"I can just imagine what your adar would do to me if I used you as a shepherd. No, your talents are better put to use as my emissary. Are you interested?"

Legolas gave it careful thought. "Adar only used me to issue orders to those entering our lands and that was usually to leave. My comportment might not be what you are looking for. Besides, your lady told me I was to train a young Dúnedain in a few years. Maybe I should ride to them and learn their ways."

"I sense you are undecided. What do you see for yourself?" Celeborn refilled their glasses while Legolas pondered what he wanted.

"I've always had someone direct me. This newfound freedom is unusual for me. I always expected to be my adar's right hand. I don't see that as my future now. It is murky and I'm afraid."

"If ever you need a haven, my trees are open to you."

"Thank you," Legolas murmured. "Do I have to say anything to Arwen?"

"Maybe." Celeborn's sly humor was returning and his eyes twinkled at the terrified look in Legolas' face."

"What do I tell Arwen?" Legolas wished to be anyplace except at Lothlórien right now. "Lady Galadriel said it won't be me who weds her and I hope I didn't lead Arwen on with anything I may have done, said or implied."

"Have you done something you owe her an explanation or would force a wedding?" Celeborn closely watched the younger elf for signs of chagrin, an admission of guilt. He was almost disappointed when an innocent face looked back.

"We have talked, sparred and hunted together and she's been a wonderful guide. I hope she didn't read anything into my attentions."

' _Stop toying with him, Celeborn.'_

He knew the tone and replied, _'He is asking what he should do.'_

' _Give him of your wisdom, meleth-nín.'_

"I think you need to ride north for now. Go home, Legolas. The dwarves are on the move and will descend on your adar in numbers that will overwhelm his forces. He needs every elf he can muster. I may send some of mine north to assist in time."

"No," Legolas replied firmly. "I'll not return or Adar will take it as a sign he was right and I'll be his vassal again. If I return it will be as a visitor only. Besides, I don't care if the dwarves live or die or make it home to their stupid mountain."

Hearing determination, Celeborn quickly thought of an alternative. "You could go with Mithrandir in the morning to Imladris. The child you seek is there."

"No, if you don't have a place for me here, I will travel these lands and see their wonders first."

"I told you my offer. Anything else would be a waste of your talents. There will be wars in the land leading up to a final battle against Sauron. Your bow and sword will always be needed. I see in you a teacher. Take your skills and prepare men, for this is their battle. For now, I could use you as my ambassador to Rohan and Gondor. I will need someone to insure the supplies I've ordered are delivered this far. I'll not ask you to go beyond here or deal with dwarves. I won't ask of you what I'm not willing to do myself."

Legolas let the wise words Celeborn was famed for penetrate. "I will go to Rohan and Gondor for you until I am needed north. How old is this child of the Dúnedain I must instruct, and why me?"

"He is now eleven and his childhood is winding down. In four years he will need you. At age eighteen he enters the world of men and will become a Dúnedain warrior. He must be the best of them and you are a natural teacher. He will thrive under your attentions. The twins play with him and don't wish to do his final training for fear of hurting him. They really do love him as a little brother. And Legolas, do not become bitter against your adar. He trained you to survive in these wild lands out of love."

Legolas nodded.

"This nagging voice in my head is telling me to join her in the Hall for a pre-dinner drink." To his relief, Legolas smiled and they left join the others.


	7. 7 Cirdan Takes Charge

In the pre-dawn stillness where even the leaves of the mighty Mallorns lay in sleep, Galadriel watched events pertaining to dwarves unfolding. She felt him, but didn't divert her gaze from the fascinating waters. "Thorin is up and getting his dwarves ready to leave in the cold of night."

"Are you going to warm their way?" Celeborn inquired, still half asleep, but felt her leave his side and chose closeness to her over a comfortable, warm bed.

"Yes. They need to stay near the rivers and I'll melt the ice." The waters morphed into another scene.

Celeborn was at her side instantly, hands on her waist when her fëa cried the alarm. "Tell me."

"I saw the figure in a cloak of my making. How came he by my handiwork and what befell the recipient? It was as Elrond told me our daeriôns also saw. He is riding on a black horse south along the Orocarni with many Easterlings. I fear Thorin and his clan may encounter them."

Celeborn peaked into the waters and risked being pulled into its mesmerizing hold. He too saw the riders and speed in which they covered ground, pushing their mounts to exhaustion. Something was nefariously familiar about the one in the grey mantle. The cloak covered a black robe, but the rest was shrouded in a haze, as if the Valar didn't wish his identity known, but warning them something evil was indeed lurking. Something caught Celeborn's eye on another horse and it was the missing dwarrowdam. His quick mind deduced it was literal and metaphorical conflated into one dire warning.

Cold permeated the mirror and Celeborn felt shivering and wrapped her in warm arms. In the mirror was a large fire and it was night and several men were abusing the dwarf, who was screaming in pain. After the last finished, she was hoisted, naked over the fire and her innards spilled into the flames. The fire welcomed its sacrifice with flaming leaps of joy. And then darkness engulfed the mirror and Galadriel gave a ragged cry of relief.

"Why are you shown this?" he raged at the Valar with each word.

"She is Lord Skafid's wife and if the Valar don't intercede that will be her fate. The mirror showed a raid a few days ago and she was taken. That is why Skafid left the halls of Jötunheim without leave of Thorin. I'm sure he didn't wish to worry Lord Dóvad that he wasn't in control of his kingdom so let it be that a dwarrowdam was kidnaped. It wouldn't be a good showing in front of Thorin and they think he is the king, as does Lord Fárin, so we must keep the counsel of the dwarves. It could be these foul men are drawing power from Sauron by killing the higher ranking among dwarves, men and elves. We must tell Mithrandir so he can spread the word. I fear darkness is once again upon our lands."

Celeborn squeezed painfully. "Was that what they wanted with our daughter? Has your mirror given you an answer yet?"

His insightful question ripped the answer from her taught throat. Tears dripped onto his hands and she clutched his that were pressed against her stomach, long nails leaving marks just short of breaking the skin. "Yes, oh yes, but the image is too painful to share and I refuse to put me or you through it again. They were going to sacrifice the wife of Elrond first, for Sauron's power would then be able to overcome me in my weakened state of grief. The Valar maneuvered events so the orcs intercepted her as an act of kindness to us. Had she reached us intact, Sauron would have eventually sent his Nazgûl and she would have died over a fire and his power would override mine. We got lucky, but others won't fare so well."

"Our child butchered is hardly luck," he snarled. "How long have you held this from me?" His voice was the hardest she ever heard and she was sure a hint of hatred flashed at her.

"Not long. I didn't tell you everything the night I passed out and hit my head on this adamant stone." As she spoke, a hand pried itself off his and caressed the edge of her mirror, almost lovingly. "I used Arwen's death as an excuse to draw you from peering too deeply and seeing something that never was. The Valar are preparing me. They are searing my fëa so I won't fade or flee."

"I want to see what our daughter suffered," he demanded in a tone that would have had his March Wardens leaping and running to do his bidding.

"You saw what it did to me. They only gave a few flashes of her torment, and after so many years it was still a stab through my heart."

"Is Arwen to suffer her fate?" He had to know.

"I don't know. If what I saw was correct, no, they won't get her and she dies here under the Mallorns she loves, but we won't give them a chance."

"You're understating events. She will be under my protection from now on," Celeborn vowed.

"You clip her wings and she will flee here. No, meleth-nín, all will be as now. I will keep her safe within these lands, but there will come a time she will return to Elrond. He will be able to protect her as well."

"Are they only taking females?" He had to know if his beloved daeriôns would suffer such attempts on them.

"King Thráin survived, but I'm sure his days were numbered. Fate intervened for it was not his time. I fear any dwarrowlass chosen for Thorin will be targeted by Sauron. No, they will take anyone, but high ranking females give Sauron the most power."

"Is there danger he could take you?" Celeborn had to know. He would fight and die to save her.

"Where life lives, risk is its companion."

"Will he come here to try?"

"He will attack when the time is his. He is building in armies and power. We need the ring destroyed. We need to find Gollum."

"What do you wish of me, hervess- nín?" His hands grew gentler and stroked her bare arms.

She turned into him. "You will have to insure Lord Fárin survives Thranduil. He also is taking a valuable lass to Erebor."

"Let me guess, Thorin's One?"

"Maybe."

* * *

Late afternoon the day after the twins invaded Círdan's palace, plans were roughly laid out on parchment, with all local lords attending the hasty meeting the lord called. With Círdan leaving the Haven's much activity would ensue. He never traveled light and now was amassing a small army of volunteers to take wagons of food. The supplies his elves would use would be packed in separate wagons to keep the two groups at peace.

A messenger arrived to the patio they were using and bowed before his lord. "Our scouts spotted a group of dwarves riding ponies east of here twenty miles. They are headed south."

"That would be the hunting party," Elladan volunteered. "We told them to go where the game hasn't been thinned in decades."

"We would wish to join them," Elrohir added. "With our bows, they would have all they need in a couple hours. We of course would leave the tending of meat to them."

"You sound suspiciously like Glorfindel," Círdan replied acerbically. "How long will it take them to dry the meat to jerky? Do they use our methods?"

"They were eating old jerky from the mountain and we did also. Their preserving methods rival ours. If we take horses, we can pack the animals back to their halls," Elladan reasoned, looking expectantly at Círdan.

The elf lord smiled. He had witnessed those two working their father with the same pleading expressions while verbalizing their cause, which usually involved hunting, fishing or just being outdoors.

"I think that is a great idea." He held his hand up before they could run out on him. "I'm making an adjustment. Bring the meat here and we will process it for them. I know they will be in a panic when we explain our plans of moving all at once." He looked at his trusted seneschal. "Taíban, I'm placing you in charge and am secure in knowing my wishes are carried out."

Taíban stood and with hand over his heart gave a slight bow and motioned for Elrond's sons to accompany him.

Fállon looked longingly after them, but knew his place was in the Havens. He refocused when Círdan addressed him next, as if knowing he wished an adventure with the twins.

"I am placing you in charge of overseeing the boats for those who lost loved ones in the last battle. Elrond sent the numbers from his realm as did Thranduil and Celeborn. We need two boats for Thranduil's elves, one for Elrond's and one for Celeborn's. All are almost done, but you will oversee the stocking and items of comfort."

"Of course, my lord." Inside, Fállon was singing, for it was the first time he was trusted with overseeing this task.

"I'm riding to Thorin's Halls and speaking with the lords myself," Círdan announced as his last order of business. "I'll leave immediately. Galdor, you're in charge. Amáphon, you're with me. Gather twelve warriors."

The meeting dissolved and each hurried to assigned tasks that would begin on the morrow.

* * *

Fárin walked the parameter of the encampment, insuring with his own eyes all was secure for the night. He pulled his service wagons of forty stout oaken freighters into a tight circle and tarps stretched on both sided so the dwarves could crowd together for warmth and security. Dwarflings played in the center as food was prepared. To them it was a great adventure, but so far the weather was mild. He knew when rains logged their clothes; shouts of laughter would turn to wails of discomfort.

All in order, he crawled under a wagon next to his son and was soon slumbering.

Hundreds of miles to the east, Thorin's party was likewise settling in for their first night of many on the frozen ground. He led the procession from Jötunheim with Dwalin at his side and his other lords rode in the order they arrived.

He had a moment of playfulness with Dwalin, when he leaned over and whispered, "Yer leading us to Erebor?"

At Thorin's puzzled look, Dwalin continued, "My silence of you getting lost in the Shire can be purchased."

All those waiting to get on the road saw the king knock Dwalin off his feet and the downed Durin howling in laughter and Thorin just as swiftly offering his hand and pulling him back up and drawing _Orcrist_ in mock sport of killing the laughing lord. The others in the Company gathered close and soon all were laughing, so it was a merry troupe that danced their ponies down the trail in the lead.

Wagons were scarce and he made the decision to let young dwarflings, pregnant dams and the very old ride. Everyone else was on foot, except his party and the warriors who rode point and aft and were spread along each side of the long caravan. The warriors from Jötunheim rode rams and boars; stock animals of the Blacklocks, and many dwarflings first glimpse of a pony were the ones Thorin mustered from Dáin's small herd. It was the Longbeards who preferred small, fiery spirited ponies.

Thorin stopped by Dóvad's campfire, made from the plentiful wood in the forest they were traversing to the plains. "Have the lads gather all the wood traps under the wagon can carry."

He hadn't disclosed his route plans to anyone outside his Company, so Dóvad asked, "Have ye selected the way?" His family and several Longbeards pestered him all day and he told them he would find out.

"We will take the longer route along the rivers. There is privacy for the dams, water and scraps of wood for fires. Also, animals will be coming to drink." Thorin lifted his face to catch the sun. "Feel the air?"

At Dóvad's nod, he continued, "A strange warm spring is upon us and the days will be warm and waters melting."

"And harder on the wagons as they will bog in the thawing ground," Dóvad grumbled.

"Most likely," Thorin agreed and looked casually around the area.

Risári called out, "Have you eaten, King Thorin?"

He glanced their fare over once more, mouth watering. "No, I have rations with the Company, but thank you."

"You aren't telling me you are eating jerky while I have a pot of stew with enough to feed your lords. Now I'm not telling the king what to do, but if you bring them here, I'll make sure their bellies aren't rumbling by three in the morning."

He smiled at her persistence. "I will tell them."

"Hhrrrmmmppp," she snorted as he walked away muttering loudly. "He might be a royal, but I won't have it getting back to the other Durin dams that he went hungry around me."

"Ye kept him well fed at the mountain," Dóvad reminded her and straightened when Dwalin, Bofur, Bifur, Nori and Óin moved into their space with lively steps.

"Thorin said you would feed us," Bofur stated and eyeballed the stew and bread like a starving dwarf.

"Make a deal with you lords," Risári stated. After several meals at her table, she felt comfortable enough around them to speak her mind. "You find fresh meat and I'll keep this pot full."

They looked at each other with grins.

Dwalin spoke for them. "You have a deal. Just don't expect Thorin to join you often. He feels the need to punish himself for imaginary offenses of failing to kill ah dragon while ah dwarfling."

"And if I happen to send you his way with a large bowl of stew, will he eat?" Risári asked while Lári scooped bowls full and handed them out.

"I reckon," Dwalin answered and took a bite. "He doesn't wish to be a bother to anyone."

They sat on the ground and silence fell while hungry dwarves dug in.

Lári looked around. "Where is that lass? I swear she is useless to me."

"She tailed her brother when he got the lot of guard duty," Dóvad answered. "She thinks she can do whatever he can."

"Well, she can wash these dishes in the stream. That's what she can do," Lári snapped, peeved the girl was always dreaming instead of learning the ways of the dams.

Thorin walked the length of the dwarven camp, nodding to those who waved, but not stopping to chat. Idle talking wasn't his style, as his father before him. It wasn't long before he was formulating a plan for the dwarves to be more efficient and use less wood. Lost in thought, he almost didn't see the slight form of a dwarf scooting in his direction. "Halt," he ordered. The dwarf stopped and he approached, wondering who was careless enough to leave the safety of the camp. Moonlight revealed the dwarf. "What are you doing away from your family?"

"I wanted to see what the guards were doing. I can work and earn my way," Lióni insisted.

"I have all the guards I need among the dwarrow." He fell in step with her and she slowed her steps, desire of not having her mother mad she ran off on their first night replaced with a desire this king would see her as more than a young lass he was once again escorting to her parents. This time he didn't talk to her and the humiliating way her father treated her in front of him made her cheeks burn. She was grateful for darkness.

Thorin saw his lords took his advice and were sopping the bottoms of their bowls with bread when he stalked into their midst.

Lióni immediately skirted her parents and grabbed a bowl.

"Do I have to ask why you are once again being escorted by the king?" Dóvad queried.

"Offer the bowl to the king, lass," her mother ordered. "I swear you make it look like your father and I never taught you an ounce of manners."

Lióni's spine stiffened at the rebuke from one and question from the other. "King Thorin, I was getting this for you, unlike what my parents think." She held the bowl out with her head held high.

Thorin looked at his Company and their quietly shaking shoulders, trying not to break out laughing. He took the bowl and bread and sat. "Dwalin, take first watch, Bofur second and Nori third. I've already instructed all guards report any issues in the night to you." He stopped issuing instructions and shoved in a mouthful of stew he knew was better than anything they cooked on the trip to reclaim the mountain.

"I will tell you exactly what I told your lords. You would offer grave insult if you took meals anywhere except this campfire," Risári repeated when it was obvious Thorin was done with his dwarrow.

"Then I accept," Thorin graciously agreed, his pride dissolving with each bite, and saw the smile of satisfaction cross the old dwarrowdam's face. He remembered her in his youth, always cheerful and a great asset to the old dwarrowdams of his household. They also relied on a network of close dwarrowdams to know what was going on in the mountain and controlled the female dwarves. He knew his father and grandfather left the dams to them and when his time came, he saw no reason to change the order of things. He lifted his head when a sharp criticism of Lióni started up again.

"Where in the name of Mahal is your beard?" Lári gasped.

"I don't see the big deal. You came here with an entire company of dwarrowdams who fled the mountain without beards. They weren't molested or killed. I'm not wearing it. Mahal made me this way and I shall enjoy my freedom from dusty old traditions."

"Ye are disgracing us in front of the king," Dóvad snarled quietly. "At the mountain we looked the other way, but this disrespect of the king an our ways must cease an now." He had a thought. "And if the king were ta order ye ta wear it?"

All eyes turned to Thorin; the leading family of Jötunheim in despair, and the Company all but openly laughing. He felt like telling them to take it up with the king. He sighed and put his bowl in his lap. "A truce. You can go naked on your cheeks unless we encounter anyone not a dwarf."

Lióni looked at the amused lords of Thorin and him lastly. "Are you expecting to meet another group or those of other races?"

"I would think you would jump at what I just gave you," Thorin snapped and started to feel sorry for her parents. "What I expect or not is none of your concern."

Dóvad felt a chill in his spine and looked at the king closely, looking for rumors he himself squashed about ill-fated trips and mad kings of Durin. "Take his offer, lass. If ye are done, wash the dishes."

* * *

Fræg noticed by end of the first day he was constantly in the vicinity of one of the King's soldiers. They were watching him he was certain. He made the decision; in the middle of the night he would slip from camp and return to Jötunheim. His reasoning was Thorin wouldn't return and make his family pay for his indiscretion.

He made his bed under the tongue of a wagon that most dwarves avoided due to its lack of protection, although he threw a small tarp over it, mainly to hide his movements. As the camp settled into sleep, he waited. On the pretext of checking the travelers for signs of soreness or blisters, he saw where the guards were located.

He watched the moon cross the sky and that weird bright star that moved faster than any normal star. There, the guard stepped in the trees to relieve himself. Scooting from under his tarp, Fræg made a mad dash into the trees, his heart pounding. Feet carried him swiftly from the dwarves and for now he was only looking for a safe place to hole up until daybreak and he could find the trail made by the wagons and follow it home. Deep among the trees, he stopped running because he couldn't force one more breath in. He dropped to the frozen turf and struggled to catch his breath.

The guard assigned to Fræg cursed royally when he peered under the tarp and the lump was rumpled blankets. He turned and ran to Nori, who just started the third and final shift. "My lord, Fræg is gone."

Wide awake now, Nori cursed in Khuzdul, Westron and his newfound language of Sindar, impressing the guard. "Saddle my pony." As the guard left to do his bidding, he went to wake Thorin.

Thorin's eyes snapped open and hand reached for _Orcrist_ at the touch to his shoulder.

"That traitorous slime Fræg has flown the coop. I'll track his carcass down and return him."

"Wait and have the guards get ponies ready." When Nori hurried away, he rose and went to his Company and slapped each on the shoulder, silently rousing them. They chose to camp just off the wagons so they could talk privately and were mostly using Sindarin with the help of a list of words Erestor wrote down for them and basic sentences. Using their new language, he told them the situation.

"We are going with you," Dwalin stated.

"You are, and these two," Thorin pointed to Bifur and Bofur. "Nori and Óin will keep the dwarves moving. It might take a few days to find him and if he made it back to the mountain, we will bring his family under guard and in shackles. I warned him," Thorn ended in a deep growl. "Óin, you are in charge. Take them all the way if you have to."

Óin nodded he heard, trumpet in his ear.

Ponies were brought up and soon the small party rode into the trees in the only direction a dwarf would run, as the icy river was melting and cracked all night and to cross would most likely end in a watery demise. Little did they know their guardian in Lothlórien expended much power and energy to make it happen faster than normal. Now instead of watching over them, she was sleeping soundly and alone, for Celeborn was moving through the night to the Dimrill Stairs with a small band of March Wardens and Gandalf. The wizard was leaving them and upset he couldn't be in all places at once. He felt only he or Saruman had the powers to withstand this man of Sauron and he didn't have time to ride to Isengard.

Morning found Óin with the leaders explaining Thorin said keep moving and he would bring the wayward healer back. Once on the way, Dóvad seeked a private word with Óin. "Should we return ta the mountain an wait for Thorin?"

Óin snorted. "We walked across this land, first as refugees an then when Thorin led us to the mountain. We are going ta Erebor. Thorin will be back within the week; don't ye worry.

* * *

Círdan rode to the Refuge of Edhelion and met with Lord Estoras first and the lord accompanied them on foot through the gate separating the two kingdoms. On the side that housed dwarves, preparations covered much of the courtyard and most prominent were the wagons lined for loading. Círdan's unexpected appearance had dwarves ceasing their work and watching the tall elves walk to Thorin's Hall and up the stone steps.

A guard at the door swiftly ran inside the moment the gate between the races opened and elves stepped into their side. It was not surprising to find the elderly lord in his favorite chair by the fire. "Lord Gróin, elves are here."

Gróin jerked awake. "Eh," he held his ear trumpet up.

"Elves," the guard screamed, "out front."

"Get Garad," Gróin ordered just as the elves entered the far end of the large hall. He stiffly rose and waited. "Lord Círdan, this is a surprise. Sit, sit," he motioned with one hand and signed for drink of wine with the other.

Círdan's lips rose in amusement when immediately wine was served and to his surprise, it was smooth and tasty. "I didn't know dwarves made wine of this quality. Why aren't we trading with you for it?"

"It is yours, not ours. This is the wine ye brought us that first trip when we were starving in Dunland. We only use it for special occasions; a wedding of ah Durin or birth. When Fili, Kili and Gimli were born, we toasted to fine Durin's with it." He broke off when he saw Garad enter the outside door and marched swiftly down the hall.

Seeing their missing dwarf lord join them, Círdan terminated his polite conversation and efficiently outlined his plan.

The dwarf lords sat quietly, listening carefully.

Círdan ended with, "The meat processing facilities at the Havens is the best in Middle Earth. We can dry four large cows a day. I sent a few elves with horses to pack game to the Havens and will offer this service even if you reject my offer."

"I remember when we numbered seven thousand and walked the length of the Anduin. We lost about eight souls a week," Gróin replied. "I know not all will make the trip east and I'm not sure I can, but we will try. We've built a thriving community here and I hope your generosity will extend to Thorin's Halls after the majority has left….." At Círdan's nod he continued, "It can be done and if you will assist and come to Erebor, I assure you as my word of a Durin, you will return home much richer."

"The wine? I am most anxious to procure the wine promised to Elrond, Thranduil and Celeborn."

Gróin and Garad heartily laughed. "The letters the lads carried back gave hint that it makes this fine vintage drink like curded milk." He looked at Garad. "Well, do ye think we should take all at once?"

"Yes." Garad didn't hesitate.

"We will leave in one month. Will you be ready and what can the elves assist you with?" Círdan asked.

"Ye saw all the wagons. We need horses an not ponies ta pull them."

"Done."

"Ye have the food we need under control. I will need ta do a trial load of our elderly an young. If we can get them in the wagons, we will be ready. If not and need more, can ye spare any?"

"I may be able to scrounge a few, but if you go to the Shire, I'm sure they will sell you something more in your size."

Gróin nodded. "I wish I hadn't sent the lads hunting. They made a friend in the Shire who will help."

"Ahh, that would be one Bilbo Baggins. The twins told me all about him." Círdan rose, "I would like to see your wagons if I may?"

Garad jumped to his feet, "Aye, this way, my lords. Ye will have ta excuse Gróin. He rarely goes down the steps these days."

* * *

Celeborn escorted Gandalf to the Dimrill Stairs and they did talk.

"You will watch for this wizard or mysterious person?" Gandalf asked for the third time.

"Only if you cease asking," Celeborn teased.

"Elves," was the grumbling reply. "I'll see you when my wandering feet cross your path again and the stars will shine brightly for us."

"I'm Sindar. Save your inanities for the Ñoldor and their strange customs."

With a laugh, Gandalf mentally told his stallion of the Riddermark to make haste.

Celeborn watched his friend ride up the steps and turned back to Legolas, who rode with him and a handful of Galadhrim. "Have you chosen your path?"

Legolas nodded, "I will ride south to avoid the dwarves. I don't trust myself around the vermin."

Celeborn nodded in approval as he led the way across the open moors to the trees.

"Just as well. Galadriel has a soft spot for the vermin and she will insist food be place for them. I will send you to King Fengel with letters and instructions."


	8. 8 Easterlings Pt 1

Fræg faced his second night alone in the deep forest west of Jötunheim. He ran further than he thought possible and was hopelessly lost. As a cave dweller open spaces scared him. On top of that, he was famished so started looking around the roots of trees for mushrooms, although he knew the odds weren't in his favor. He hoped some were frozen and survived winter's baron offerings. As dusk gave way to night he gave up and scooped wet dank leaves into a pile over his legs and body. Shivering, he felt the pull of sleep. He spent the first night awake and afraid in the deep woods, listening to movement on the ground and snapping of sticks by hoofed animals.

Only about a quarter mile from him, Thorin and his party decided in the trees it was safe for fires to keep them warm and cook the handful of rabbits they hunted at every clump of brush they passed.

"We're on his trail," Dwalin commented as he watched Thorin stare moodily into the fire.

"I will not disappoint my father. We will find him and he will make the trip in chains," Thorin angrily retorted and threw a bone into the fire. Wasting a day on a runaway dwarf wasn't in his plans. Scouting ahead of the caravan was.

"He can't be far away traveling on foot. I'm betting by tomorrow night we will have better food than this burnt on the outside and raw inside rabbit," Bofur aired his complaint.

In the distance a scream had the complaining dwarf dropping his dinner on the ground as he grabbed his Warhammer and joined the rest who were all on their feet. "What in the name of Mahal was that?"

"Shhhh," Thorin ordered. "Quiet." The camp went silent as everyone listened.

* * *

A hand reached into the leaves and pulled Fræg roughly to his feet. He let out a frightened yelp when in the light of the moon he saw the tattooed face of an Easterling. He fought to free himself, but was held fast and a fist slammed into his mouth. The Easterling uttered something in a language Fræg had never heard and was dragged along a trail into a clearing where the old forest of gnarled wood bent in homage to a stone altar. In the center of the meadow a roaring bonfire provided light and was surrounded by a dozen Easterlings and a robed man who was shrouded in a cloak of grey that covered his head and face.

Fræg moaned in fear upon seeing the figure from his drug induced vision.

The tall shrouded man approached and from deep behind the cowl an amused voice spoke. "My insight saw a dwarf was lurking nearby. What is your name, little one?"

Fræg stuttered his name. This was the same who burned the bones and he knew his fate. How he wished Thorin would come and rescue him with his trained warriors and Durin fighting ability.

"You will be guest of honor for our little gathering. We have a special treat for you." He motioned with his hand and the dwarrowdam was led from the darkness. Her face was battered and clothes shredded. "This is Lady Moracaa, Lord Skafid's wife. She agreed to come with us as life was becoming stale in her mountain hole."

Fræg recognized her from the one trip he made north many years before. He snarled, "The dwarves will hunt ye ta yer doom."

The robed man threw back his head and laughed and Fræg got a glimpse of his face and vowed if he lived never to forget it.

"Let the ritual begin."

Fræg was tied to a ring attached to stone and knew they were for holding arms and legs in a splayed position. They ripped the clothes from the hapless dam and one by one the Easterlings took her and her howling shrieks were answered by the screams of Wargs that lived wild in these untamed and uninhabited woodlands. Fræg had tears running down his cheeks and prayed she would die before the next part.

Thorin hand signed for his dwarves to spread out and find the source of the sound and they moved through the forest. A light flickering through branches drew them to the sound that was now more of a plea from a tortured throat. He motioned for his guard to surround them and at his signal attack.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, Galadriel was strolling among the trees after a pleasant supper with Arwen. The younger was at her side and they were discussing the various weaves used in wedding gowns.

"I wove a new pattern for your naneth's gown. She requested linage names from both sides and all her and Elrond's relatives in the pattern. I used silk from the Isle of Luin for its refined silkworm. To make the pattern, I embroidered the names and some of her favorite designs onto the base with fine spun silver. It gave the gown a luxurious glow."

"When I was little, I would sneak into Naneth's closet and look at her beautiful gowns. When I was grown, I asked her to model it for us. She made Adar wear his wedding tunic and robes and diadem. They reenacted their wedding right down to the location. Even Elladan and Elrohir thought it interesting, although teased Adar that he was forced to wed again."

"I wish we had known and could have come and reenacted our parts and of course wear the clothing we sported that day."

Eárthellon filled in for Daeradar and Lindis for you. Glorfindel played his part as rector and Erestor played Círdan. It was wonderful. I remember reading the names on Naneth's gown. I think it was so unique and unlike the usual flowers and leaves. I want something unlike the norm. If I knew my intended, I would do the same as Naneth."

"We can do your names and I think with your dark hair, the shimmering white silk I have been saving for eons would make a gown….." she trailed off, eyes to the east.

"Daernaneth?" Arwen questioned.

Galadriel placed a hand on her granddaughter's arm, "Return to the talan. My mirror is calling."

"But you promised Daeradar. I'm coming with you."

"Alright, but I sense a power rising in the east." With that, she was running, bare feet swift on the stone steps and in seconds was before her stone basin. Taking the pitcher, her hands of steadiness lied as to her inward state. Careful not to splash over the edges and annoy the Valar, water soon filled the saucer. As if she hadn't a care in the world, she calmed herself for what it would expose.

Arwen slipped behind her grandmother and sat on an embedded seat of Mallorn root. She opened herself to feel and hopefully be granted her own vision. In the past, sometimes with her grandmother, she had visions of foresight, but so far nothing more than visions of her father or life at Imladris.

The waters spilled its secrets and Galadriel watched.

* * *

Celeborn pushed his weary horse through the night intent on reaching Caras Galadhon by midnight and reclining in his lady's arms until the sun was high. A jolt of his mate's fëa had him telling his horse, Agenon, now wasn't the time to dawdle and make better time.

Legolas and the March Warden called to their horses when the lord suddenly bolted ahead and his horse started running from the easy loping pace he had set for the past three hours; since their last break at a stream where they fished for dinner and allowed the horses a small drink and only a few mouthfuls of abundant grass. They didn't want sluggish horses for the last push and the animals would be given the finest grains imported from the Rohan and they knew it, so didn't mind the lean meal.

Legolas pushed his horse abreast of the lord's horse. "What is it?" He told his mount, Elneth, he could out run the other horse and out of respect don't pass.

"I'm not sure, but Galadriel's fëa is unsettled."

Legolas drew back with the others and passed the message on and they rode hard for home.

* * *

Estel lined up another shot with his bow. He was shooting blunts at a hide on the wall of Lord Elrond's main chamber. Before the twins left, they gifted him with a new hide and the targets were smaller and harder to hit.

Also in the room was his mother who always seemed to have sewing in her lap and of course, Ada. Elrond was reading a book and would look up each time he heard the bow release. The boy was getting good and he was pleased because he would have his first hunting trip soon with both Erak and Glorfindel. The three discussed it only the day before and opted for his first trip to be in the colder months to toughen him. He had yet to tell Gilraen and would do so on the morrow. For now he enjoyed seeing a child growing in his home again.

Estel turned. "This is boring. I wish the twins were here. They make shooting fun."

"Fun isn't what I call regressing to your age at their size," Elrond griped to cover he missed them also.

Glorfindel entered with his customary smile. "All is secure and we are tucked in for the last chilly night; for the warm winds from the sea are almost upon us and we won't feel winters bite for many months."

"I trust planting will start on schedule?" Elrond asked him.

"How should I know?" Glorfindel all but wailed and Estel and Gilraen laughed.

"You assured me doing yours and Erestor's jobs was a…..what was the term you used…..oh yes, easy as getting me to fall in love with Celebrían. Nothing in this world has ever been that easy; so for misleading me, I hereby am banning you from Imladris."

Glorfindel pouted with an exaggerated lower lip stuck out. "How was I to know Erestor actually provided a service around here? All he ever does is keep his nose in a book or write in his ledgers."

Elrond ignored the outburst. "You will take Erak and another person of your choosing and ride to the paddock and get a horse for the other person and go hunting for three days."

"I'm to leave the wine with you? I think not." Again Glorfindel got his desired laughter and even Elrond's lips quirked.

Just as fast Glorfindel switched to silent communication and grew much more serious. _'Have you informed Gilraen you are also sending her baby away?'_

' _Not yet. I will in the morning when Estel is at his lessons. I'm not sure how she will respond so don't want her upset with him jumping for joy.'_

Glorfindel without missing a beat grabbed Estel's bow and knocked an arrow. "Let me show you how the twins chipped that statue over there and broke the window."

"And you will replace the glass like Celeborn did and I will ban wine until you are done," Elrond sternly replied, although his eyes crinkled in laughter and memories.

"Ban me here, ban me there," Glorfindel muttered under his breath, but loud enough for his audience to here. "I guess I'll just sit quietly and drink wine." He handed the bow and arrow to Estel.

"Or you could teach Estel a game," Elrond advised.

"Yes," Estel jumped enthusiastically, tossing the bow carelessly on the table and waving the arrow at Glorfindel like it was a sword. "I want to learn to play Ages. I see you and Erestor play it all the time and know how."

"Okay, set the game up," Glorfindel said with mock sternness. "I take no prisoners."

* * *

Another Easterling prepared to mount the now unconscious dwarf when an axe flipped end over end and split the back of his head dead center and the glade was overwhelmed with dwarves, swinging weapons and killing unprepared Easterlings with roars of rage. From his tethered hand, Fræg pulled against the leathers strap bound around both wrists. Relief filled him that he would live. At this moment, he planned on being the best dwarf on the caravan and would tell the king he was sorry and make up a suitable excuse to get him out of this scrape.

Saruman, who was at the edge of the fray spotted Thorin slaughtering his mind controlled slaves. Easily deflecting weapons with slight hand movements, he roared, "Oakenshield, we meet at last."

Thorin spun to face the tall cloaked figure. He knew without doubt it was the one his father described.

"I am unpleased, spawn of Thráin. Your father was such a model prisoner, although his untimely escape thwarted the master's plans. You will stand in for him." Seeing the whelp take a step back he laughed, "You have no power to resist. Like the elf, you will willingly come with me."

"My kin will kill me first and deprive you," Thorin raged. "Fight me fair without your sorcery and I'll send you to wherever evil departs to."

"I don't need you intact, dwarf. Taste my power." Saruman raised his staff and a white light slammed into Thorin's armor, heating the metal until Thorin screamed in anguish, drawing attention of his Company and guards. When they would attack the robed man, he effortlessly created an invisible girdle they couldn't penetrate, although Dwalin beat with Smasher, his Warhammer repeatedly with rage filled curses.

Across the sky another white light of power lit the night sky, turning the forest an eerie grey.

* * *

Gandalf rested his horse at the top of Caradhras Pass with plans on resting until morning. The Lady cleared a path and it was bare dirt with rivulets of melting snow that the horse easily avoided. He took a bite of Lembas the elves of the Golden Wood always provided him when his travels took him this way. It was fresh and melted in his mouth. Galadriel's command of, _'Mithrandir, Elrond, assist me….NOW!'_ had him swallowing the last bite and he let power flow from his crystal on top of his staff when he saw her ring light up the sky. His staff was aimed at her to harness her power and magnify her strength for he felt her reaching out half a world away.

Glorfindel watched Estel shake the pieces in a cup and pour them on a game board that was painted with elves, Maiar and Beren and fell beings, randomly dispersed, with the highest in power placed on the outer edge. If any part of the pieces left field of play; the thrower lost a warrior. It was a First Age game with battles and heroes of an age long ago. Even Glorfindel was on the board and the real one rarely chose him.

Estel looked where his pieces landed and Glorfindel allowed him to figure his options without hinting. The boy picked up a black triangle shaped piece. "This is my high power and is Urulókë." The piece landed on the firedrakes picture.

Glorfindel scooped the pieces into the cup and shook it. He carelessly tossed the pieces across the board. They both looked to see if his high piece beat the dragon. Glorfindel smiled and reached for a circle painted red. "I will take…." He jumped to his feet at Elrond's sudden move and they rushed to the balcony in a blur that Estel and Gilraen could barely follow. Just as fast, Lindir was in the room and helping her stand, saying they needed to retreat to the lady's rooms.

Estel started to protest and found that elves really were stronger than Edain when he couldn't break Lindir's grip on his wrist, even using the tricks the twins showed him.

Gilraen didn't protest and her skirts swished as she hurried to her rooms. "Estel, stop it," she snapped.

"What is going on?" the lad questioned Lindir.

Lindir looked at the mother and she nodded. "We're not sure, but Lady Galadriel shouted for Elrond. Usually if the lady reaches out, only Elrond can hear and maybe Glorfindel, but we all heard her shout for help. Now we wait, and I must go to my lord."

"Thank you, Lindir. We will be fine. I'm assuming guards are increased?"

"Yes my lady. We are safe." Lindir hurried away.

Galadriel's command ripped from her throat with power that demanded Elrond join her with _Vilya's_ superior strength.

Tossing his book on the seat beside him, he jumped and ran to his private balcony and knew Glorfindel was one step behind. His ring came to life and glowed on his finger. _'I am here, Galadriel.'_ He could also feel _Nenya_ and to his surprise _Narya_ was also lit up and Mithrandir's crystal sending power to Galadriel. Without questioning, he sent power to her.

' _What is it, my lady?'_ Gandalf inquired when he felt the full strength of their combined rings and she wasn't carrying the entire load.

' _Oakenshield is being attacked by what I'm sure is a wizard. Sauron must have turned one of the blues.'_

Glorfindel was pouring life giving support into Elrond's fëa and with his considerable power melded their thoughts so they saw what Galadriel was looking at in her mirror.

* * *

Celeborn was riding around the wall of Caras Galadhon when power almost dismounted him. He knew she was using her ring and the night became a ghostly white. Not wanting to distract her, he shielded his fëa and didn't mentally call for the guards to open the gate, as was his custom when arriving after dark. At the gate, he motioned for it to be opened. The guard hesitated and Celeborn snarled, "Get this gate open or I'll transfer your worthless carcass to Thranduil."

The gate swung out and Celeborn was first through, dismounting before his horse stopped running, he ran through the city and down the steps. He saw Arwen pressed against the bole of the massive Mallorn as raw power kept her from moving. She saw him and forced a hand in his direction. Pushing against the force, he soon had his granddaughter in his arms. Still blocking from Galadriel, he spoke mentally to Arwen. _'What is happening, daeriell-nín?'_

' _Daernaneth was drawn to the mirror and she ran swifter than me. She said a wizard or creation of Sauron was attacking Thorin Oakenshield and threw her hands up and visible power flowed forth. I did hear her loudly call for Adar and Mithrandir to help bolster her powers.'_

Celeborn watched his wife in awe. Never had he seen her power at full strength. He knew she used it to drive Sauron back to Mordor, but only Elrond and Saruman were witness to the fight.

* * *

Thranduil was sitting on the hill, looking south, wondering what his son was doing this evening and hoping it involved reading lays to Arwen. He was on his feet in an instant when the sky to the south lit white and held. The last he saw such displays was the War of Wrath when Maiar fought Balrogs and firedrakes and other powerful evil beings. He wondered if it was an all-out attack from Mordor.

Other elves on the hill taking the evening air and star gazing, quickly found their king; both to offer protection and hopefully be provided with answers from the king born in the First Age.

"Gather our elves. It's been two ages since I've seen anything like this."

Demythel blew the notes to gather on his trumpet and elves scurried from the safety underground to gather around their king and watch in stunned silence. Thranduil never took his eyes off the battle of light. At first the eastern light was stronger, but now the western light was gaining prominence.

"What is it?" Demythel asked.

Thranduil, in a loud, clear voice explained what they were witnessing.

* * *

On the rampart less than a hundred miles from Thranduil, Erestor was relishing being freed from the stale mountain air. Every night, no matter the weather, he found himself needing open spaces and would carry a carafe and glass to the rampart and watch the stars and Eärendil fly. He had to admit this was one of the best vantage points for viewing the stars, and of course they had a good view of Dale.

"Mind if I join ye?"

Erestor twisted his head and issued a half bow. "It is your kingdom."

"Aye, but I don't want ta impose if ye be needing solitude." Thráin stepped to Erestor's left side to better see him.

"I was just thinking you have one of the best spots to view the night sky of any place I've ever been. I think it's the elevation that makes the difference."

Thráin let his one eye admire what held the elf's admiration. "It is one of the reasons my ancestors entered the mountain on this side.

Erestor looked around. "Who is guarding you?"

"Oh, when Balin and Dáin saw ye were here, they went for ale with hopes on this warmer night, ye wouldn't mind ah few drinking partners."

"Not at all. I was just thinking if I were at Imladris, I would have the layout for our planting season completed. We rotate our crops to keep the soil from being depleted. I hope whoever replaced me doesn't listen to Glorfindel. He eats our produce, but I've never seen him drop one single seed into a hole and we've been there almost five thousand years."

Thráin looked shrewdly at him. "Ye are very close, aren't ye?"

Erestor sipped his wine. It was of the finer batch and he knew when Glorfindel found out would find a way to steal some. "I remember when Glorfindel came from the east. He arrived much in the same manner the wizards did. With him on the boat was the most beautiful horse I ever saw. He was just behind Glorfindel with his head resting on the elf's shoulder. I was on the docks taking supplies to a boat of elves that were sailing to the undying lands when elves started congregating along the quay and pointing…." He stopped talking and looked to the steps. The stamping of boots up the steps informed Erestor's sensitive hearing that someone was approaching and he hoped it was Balin and Dáin. He was armed, but didn't wish to start an incident between dwarves and elves if he were forced to harm or kill one of them.

"May we also intrude?" Balin asked cheerfully, a mug in each hand, while at his side; Dáin carried another mug and pitcher.

"I was just telling King Thráin of Lord Glorfindel's return to Middle Earth."

"Great," Dáin loudly proclaimed. "I got ta talk ta him ah few times. He is ah warrior's warrior."

That brought a smile from Erestor. "Men, elves and now dwarves have fallen under his considerable charm. He is like a harmless elfling, without malice, but full of mischief. He can't help himself; he could not prank if it meant a return trip to Mandos' Halls. He has the largest heart of all elves. His entire life is dedicated to Elrond and those who serve the lord."

"What is Elrond?" Thráin asked.

"He is the culmination of elves, Maia and man."

Thráin remembered what was written in the book. "According ta youngsters in the book, he turned down title of High King of all elves. Why?"

Erestor's face took on a look of sadness that even the dwarves could see. "He never got over the death of his cousin, the king. He felt the time of kings was over."

"But Thranduil is a king," Balin pointed out.

"Yes, he inherited the title at the same battle. There were two elven kings and both were killed. Thranduil's situation is different than Elrond's. The people he leads need a king. Sindar and Ñoldor need less guidance, but Silvan does better with a leader."

"We didn't mean ta sidetrack ye." Thráin reminded.

Erestor took a drink and turned once more to look at the night sky. Temperatures were dropping he was going to suggest the king's chambers would be more comfortable and suggest Ori and young Thorin might enjoy hearing the tale also. The southern sky lit up and he uttered, "Sweet Elbereth, what age am I in?"

Thráin, Dáin and Balin lined the stone balustrade, mouths open.

"What is it?" Dáin found his voice first.

"I saw something similar at Dol Guldur." Thráin remembered. "It was like that when Gandalf fought Sauron, only not at this scale. Also, when I went back with the elves, the top of the fortress was likewise displaying an impressive light show. The light suddenly receded to the east an all was dark on top of the tower."

"It's the power of the Maiar," Erestor covered for the rings. "Mithrandir is on the west and I haven't a clue who is responding on the east." He knew from experience it was a Maia or most likely a blue wizard turned to serve evil.

* * *

Across Middle Earth, Círdan was nearing the Havens with his group when suddenly he stopped his horse and whirled to look eastward. Likewise, all the elves turned and looked to something even they couldn't see from so great a distance.

"What is causing the disturbance?" Amáphon asked.

"Power of a battle between Maiar, but not them," Círdan answered in typical elven mercurial vernacular. He looked around his group aware their fëas didn't have the power of his. "The power we feel is generated normally by the Maiar, but we have none here. The wizards retained many of their original Maia powers and that's what we are experiencing. Whatever occurs is beyond the Hithaeglir."

Elves from all over Middle Earth ceased their activities and waited. They knew something was charging the air, but most were born in the second or third age and could only speculate. In the camp of the dwarves where the twins and Taíban were camped waiting for the hunt to begin at first light suddenly stopped talking to the dwarves and looked eastward.

Fili and Kili, who were most familiar with elves, signaled for everyone to shut up. Silence fell over the camp and all watched the elves.

Taíban spoke in Sindarin, "It is a Maiar battle."

In continued argot, Elladan asked, "Is Mithrandir fighting a blue wizard?"

"Most likely, but we won't know until we see him," Taíban replied.

"Speak Khuzdul," Fili requested and was sorry he asked for they switched.

"We think Mithrandir is fighting Tauriel's wizard," Elrohir told them.

Kili's face hardened. "I hope he kills him."

"He won't be able to. The best they can do is a draw," Elladan reasoned. "I have so many questions. Did they bump into each other? Is this war? What are our elders doing right now? And the list goes on."

Elladan quieted and looked at his brother. _'I feel the rings.'_

' _Whatever is happening, even Glorfindel is helping,'_ Elrohir relayed, his fëa searching for contact with his loved ones.


	9. 9 Easterlings Pt 2

Saruman couldn't hold his power under the combined onslaught of three rings and a Maia and he felt the presence of one who had Maia like powers, but was sure was an elf. Who could that be? GLORFINDEL

He always wondered at the golden haired simpleton, who smiled too much and pranked like an elfling. _'You bear closer watching, cousin of the witch.'_ He looked for an escape when he lowered his protective invisible shield. He felt his grasp on Oakenshield forcibly released. His free hand reached in his pocket and withdrew a pouch. Abruptly, he dropped the invisible girdle and threw the pouch into the flames. With a bang and cloud of smoke as a decoy, he used supernatural speed to vanish while their eyes were drawn to the fire. Mounting his horse, he made for safety to contact Sauron through the Palantíri and receive instructions.

* * *

Galadriel lowered her hand which was now trembling in exhaustion. She felt his arms and wondered when he came. Before passing out, she communed with her assistants. _'Thank you, my friends. It is over; the wizard has fled south towards Mordor. Thorin Oakenshield lives and will recover in time. Rest now.'_

As before, when facing Sauron on the apogee of broken stone he used as his throne at Dol Guldur, her limbs failed to hold her. This time her husband was waiting and scooped her into his arms. "You haven't recovered your strength from your last battle with malicious spirits. I hope the Valar send more help if this becomes a habit."

She tried to reach his cheek with the hand not pinned against him and failed. "I want a soft bed and this time not ride for two days to get to it."

His face was indecipherable lest she see his anger at the Valar, and without another word carried her up long flights of stairs, passing elves without acknowledgement. They knew their lady fought again for Middle Earth and venerated the lord and her, bowing or curtseying when they passed, while sending a silent thank you for staying in Middle Earth seeing the war to its conclusion and helping guide events.

Arwen followed closely, hood over her head and face to shroud from revealing her shock at the raw power her grandmother commanded. Even on those long days and nights they tended her mother together, Galadriel never displayed more than a healing and soothing touch. Now she knew why; her mother couldn't withstand an onslaught so formidable. It would have destroyed what was left of her friable fëa.

* * *

Glorfindel turned a spent Elrond away from facing south and guided him inside where Lindir was waiting. Normally it would be Erestor in that position with a worried expression he would later deny. "Please tell the extra guards they are no longer needed and thank them for me. I'll see them in the morning," Glorfindel ordered brusquely. "I'll watch Elrond tonight. Rest, for tomorrow will be a busy day answering questions."

Lindir listened to the harshness in Glorfindel's tone. The great lord usually never had to do more than request kindly and a dozen of his warriors would jump to do his bidding. For a moment, Lindir wonder if the lord was displeased with his service and wished he were addressing Lord Erestor instead of a lowly house servant. That was until the lord spoke again. "Forgive my manners, Lindir; I too feel the strain of expending great power."

"I am not offended, Lord Glorfindel…." he paused and smiled at the knowing look cast at him. "I am more than willing to watch over Lord Elrond tonight and will send Figwit to attend you tonight."

"No. Elrond may have nightmares I am best at tending, but thank you." With that he guided the lord into his bedchamber and closed the door. He was pleased to see a fire recently stoked and warming the room; no doubt Figwit's work.

"You don't have to stay," Elrond finally forced out.

"I plan on dumping you on the sofa and taking your comfy bed for myself," Glorfindel joked as he started on the long row of buttons.

Elrond stood like an elfling being prepared for bed. Taking the tunic, Glorfindel sat it carefully on a chair. "If Erestor were here, I would throw it on the floor."

"I hope he hasn't gotten too attached to the wine," Elrond wearily stated as he sat on a chair and toed his boots off. Socks followed and were dropped into open tops and Elrond padded barefoot to his bed. Dropping his pants, he kicked them off and drew his shirt, a loose white cotton garment over his head, and wearing just his tight knitted briefs of dyed blue, crawled under the comforter and didn't move from where his head hit the pillow.

Glorfindel counted the breaths and by the fifth one, Elrond was in the kingdom of dreams. He picked the pants and shirt up and placed them over the tunic on the back of the chair. His own tunic was of Vanyar design and had fewer buttons spaced much farther apart. With his usual insouciance to personal details, he was free of the tunic and stretching before sitting on the sofa, deciding if he was going to expend the effort to pull his knee high boots off. He twisted his head at the soft knock.

It opened when he bade enter and Gilraen filled the doorway.

She glanced at the lump under the covers and a now standing Glorfindel. She came to stand before him and twisted her head up to meet his guarded eyes. "Lindir appeared with an explanation and said Elrond and you fought something powerful. I came when he said you were staying here as Elrond's personal guardian. I offer to sit with him."

Glorfindel considered her offer. He knew she wasn't allowed to do as much as she wished in halls filled with proficient elves. "Very well. I have to leave and take a short journey to Taniquetil and won't be gone more than an hour. They will revitalize my fëa and I will be my normal lovable self by morning."

Gilraen smiled at that.

Glorfindel continued. "I will sleep in here on the sofa. I spend almost as much time on it as I do in my own bed. I will relieve you when I return. You will be more comfortable in the outer chamber with Lindir keeping you company. I know he will not heed my request."

"You know us too well. Yes, he is already planning a night in the next room. You don't forget to let us know when you return. I don't plan on sitting up all night. And I know my son will still be awake and waiting for any additional information I may have learned."

Glorfindel forced a tired smile. "Tell him I am taking him hunting in a day or two. It was supposed to be in two days after Elrond has spoken with you, but I may be needed here for a few days. If Erestor were here, I wouldn't change our original plans."

"Erestor is the glue that holds this house together. I do miss him," Gilraen admitted. "But I'm sure not nearly as much as you do. Good night."

* * *

Thorin dropped to his knees struggling to catch air he knew had to be in his vicinity. The simple act of drawing breath caused snarls from pain and curses he couldn't go without air. He felt hands on his shoulders over the armor that was removed immediately.

"By Durin's Bane, ye are burning up," Dwalin cursed. "Get this off him...now. Now he knew the mithril was hot, he ignored his own pain and worked the buckles on one side and Bofur and Bifur each grabbed a buckle on the other side. He grabbed the bottom and heaved it over Thorin's head. The heavy Durin patterned tunic was smoldering and woolen underwear adhered to his chest. Dwalin pulled his knife and slit it up the center and without warning ripped everything off Thorin's chest, ignoring the string of curses. Bofur kept pulling it off his back while Bifur pulled arms from the sleeves. In the flickering firelight they were shocked.

"I didn't mean to do that, Thorin," Dwalin confessed with horror in his tone.

With great effort, Thorin looked down. "Mahal take me. You took my chest hair off."

"How does it feel?" Bofur asked with surprising caring in his voice.

"It stings and is the most pain I've ever experienced. I've had little burns from the forges, but this is like being thrown into the fire. And look, what's left of my skin is oozing," Thorin complained.

Dwalin looked at the uneven skin where some was bubbled and seeping and other areas appeared raw. "Looks like the gold heated hotter than the mithril. You have a pretty pattern."

"I'm going to kill you."

"I didn't do this to you," Dwalin protested while the other two laughed.

* * *

Fræg stopped pulling on his bonds to watch the strange light all around them and the wizard emitting a white light from the top of his staff, first in the direction of the dam splayed on the altar with her wrists and ankles stretched apart and bound; then in the direction of Thorin Oakenshield, turning his armor red hot, while deflecting the blows of several dwarven weapons. An axe against his bonds had him falling to the ground. He was roughly hauled to his feet and looking into the angry eyes of the one who was guarding him at the caravan.

"I have orders not ta kill ye. That's the only reason ye live."

Suddenly a great cloud of smoke filled the clearing and the wizard was gone and all were gathering around the fallen king. Fræg looked at the naked dwarrowdam on the stone alter and she wasn't moving; her eyes staring at a sky she would never see again. He moved to her side and gently laid her clothing over her and closed her eyes.

The guard, which never left his side asked, "Who is she?"

"Lord Skafid's wife," Fræg replied; his eyes brimming with tears at her last moments before finding relief in the Halls of Mandos. "I heard rumors of ah dwarrowdam stolen from Skafid's halls, but never dreamed it was his wife."

"Do ye know his wife?" Skepticism laced his tone.

Fræg nodded. I was introduced ta her ah few years back when I went north ta meet the healer of the Stonefoots. She invited us ta supper at the lord's private dining area so we could talk without ah bunch of rowdy dwarves we couldn't hear over. As soon as they led her from the trees, I knew her."

A whistle sounded. The guard stopped what he was going to say and grabbed Fræg's arm. "The Durin's want ta talk with ye."

Blood drained from Fræg's face as he was led to the indomitable group glaring at him; even Oakenshield, who was still on his knees and looked to be in need of medical assistance. Relief flooded him. He was to treat the king's injuries. He made to lean over the king when Dwalin's Warhammer slammed him to the ground several feet from the group. Wind knocked out of him, he struggled to draw his breath and sit up at the same time.

"We have a few questions," Dwalin growled.

"I thought ye wanted ah healer," Fræg replied.

"Aye, we need ah healer. I don't consider yer skills refined enough for our leader."

"So you ran away from dwarves ta meet with Easterlings?" Bofur questioned, drawing Fræg's eyes off the Warhammer.

"No, I was trying ta get back ta the mountain, I swear." Fræg knew he was pleading, but they had to believe him so he didn't die and be tossed on a pile of Easterlings and burned.

"We are going to a mountain," Bofur stated in a calm tone. "I think ye are in league with the Easterlings and that wizard. This is where we found you. Your presence condemns you."

"No, no," Fræg looked wildly around, hoping someone believed him. "I was tied ta the altar. I was their prisoner. Didn't ye see me bound?"

Thorin lifted his head again, eyes filled with rage that overrode his pain. "Tell us about your vision."

"Vision? I haven't had a vision in years," Fræg protested, sweat running freely down his face, although the temperatures had dropped below freezing.

"The one involving the King of Dol Guldur," Thorin specified.

"I saw your father there, King Thorin. I swear on my dead parent's tomb I speak the truth. I am sorry your own father betrayed the dwarves and joined the forces of evil."

"Then he lives?" Thorin questioned, relieved the cold was numbing the raw areas so he could draw more than a shallow breath.

"I don't know how long ago it happened." Those Durin eyes sure were cold.

"We talked with those banned from Jötunheim," Thorin admitted. "You will go to Erebor in chains. Don't let him escape again," Thorin ordered in a louder voice. "Throw the bodies on the fire." He held his arms out and Bifur and Bofur lifted him to his feet.

"Ye look bad," Bifur stated in Khuzdul. He turned to a guard. "Take who ye need an bring the ponies."

Thorin, with the aid of Dwalin, went to the dwarrowdam. The guard who spoke with Fræg told Thorin who she was.

"Take her body back to Jötunheim," Thorin ordered the guard. "Catch up with us later. We are following the river."

* * *

Lióni walked beside her mother on the third day Óin was leader. She didn't see much of Nori as Óin had him scouting ahead. She let her mind return to that inexplicable night. Everyone was frighten and cowering under cover, but when she looked at the lord's, Óin and Nori, they were standing tall with eyes turned to the sky and she heard them talking in the strange dialect she assumed belonged to the elves. She could hear them plainly, but hadn't a clue what was said, and her natural curiosity had her burning to ask one of them. She looked at Óin in his position at point guiding the caravan and didn't have the nerve to sidle up to his pony and start up a conversation. So far, only Thorin spoke more than three words to her from that august group of Durin's and their Company.

A horn sounded and Óin raised his hand to halt the wagons. He spun his pony in a tight circle and raced away from the group. Before the wagons were completely stopped, Nori came tearing by on his pony and disappeared from the front group.

Soon the ponies were upon them and Óin was calling he needed space in a wagon because Oakenshield was injured.

Dóvad ran to the group. "My wagon can be rearranged ta hold the king."

With care the Durin's helped Thorin dismount while gawkers gathered to see him and hear the tale while Dóvad ordered his son to help him. When he pronounced a bed was made, Óin jumped in with alacrity that belied an elf of over two hundred. He reached for Thorin's hand and with Dwalin guiding; they had Thorin on his back and out of sight before the blanket was removed.

Óin motioned for Dwalin to join him and looked around. "Alright, I don't need an audience."

Taking their cue, Nori and the Company stood guard and even the most daring, including Dóvad, went back to utilizing the break.

Lióni, approached, emboldened that it was her father's wagon. "Lord Óin, I am available if you need me to run an errand," she spoke loudly to the mostly deaf dwarf while her eyes stayed glued to where Thorin was laying and she burned to know the type of injury.

"Aye lass," Óin acknowledged while Nori turned and winked at Bofur and Bifur. He gently opened the blanket that Thorin arrived with wrapped around his body. "Aw lad, ye tangled with that wizard, didn't ye?"

Lióni, who was still loitering, stared in shock, eyes wide. What wizard? She had only been told that they existed and were on the side of the dwarves and elves.

Seeing their young eavesdropper overheard, Nori, turned and spoke in Sindarin, "Watch your tongue, Óin. This will now likely get all over camp and the last thing we need is a bunch of terrified dwarves. We have to travel far yet."

If he heard, which was doubtful, Óin ignored the warning. "I need boiling water and plenty of clean cloths."

"I'll go," Lióni volunteered and ran to her father. He ordered Tóvad to pull dry kindling from under the wagon and get a fire going.

"Lord Dwalin," Dóvad approached. "Is this as far as we travel today?"

Dwalin looked at the sun and area. "I won't know until Óin is done."

With a nod, Dóvad went down the line saying they would wait for word.

While they awaited supplies, Dwalin quietly told Óin and Nori what happened. He spoke in Khuzdul, mindful to keep his tone low.

Finally a bucket with hot water was handed up by Nori who took it from the helpful Lióni. At her side was her grandmother, Risári.

"I would like to help, Lord Óin," she stated with authority common among older dwarrowdams.

Óin smiled with memories of his mother using that same tone with him and Glóin when she wanted a straight answer. "I need cold water also," he deflected. Nori, hand me my herb bag." He looked down at Thorin while adding hot water to powder in a cup. "Thorin, this is going to hurt. I'm giving ye ah draught of Mescalshroom for the pain." He lifted Thorin's head.

Thorin drank obediently. "It took us two days to reach you. You're making good time."

Óin tested the hot water with his fingers and added cold from the bucket Risári fetched, until the cloths he was sterilizing were warm. It was a trick he learned from the elves. "After the light show, I moved us until dark each night, scared there was an army of orcs on our tail."

"I'm more worried about flying Ringwraith's when the wizard makes Mordor," Thorin stated and his tone slurred at the end; a sign Óin was looking for.

Taking a warm rag, he started cleaning oozing skin on Thorin's chest.

Thorin lay with his eyes closed; although the mushrooms helped, having his skin ripped away still made him want to scream like a dwarfling throwing a tantrum.

"What happened ta your chest hair?" Óin asked.

Dwalin laughed and answered. "I pulled it off with his tunic. He is as naked as a newborn dwarfling or the elves."

"Only time you should be clean shaven is when getting a tattoo. Why don't ye take advantage of the smooth skin and mark yer chest."

"Can I have skin first?" Thorin asked acerbically.

"Picky as always," Óin muttered and repeated his cleaning with cold rags he knew would make Thorin feel better. Done, he applied a salve. "Ye need ta stay on your back for at least ah week. Let your body develop hard scabs."

"After two days on horseback, I accept," Thorin muttered sleepily. "Seems like I was just at this party."

"That's because you are a Durin and target," Dwalin reminded him. He looked at Óin, "Is he able to endure the rocking of the wagon."

Óin nodded. "I'll ride with him. I officially turn my responsibilities over ta you."

They exchanged grins and Dwalin jumped lithely over the edge. "Pass the word, break is over," he told his Company of three. When Nori went to help, he place a hand on his arm. "I need you scouting. Tell our guards to watch sharp."

Nori nodded and started to leave again when Dwalin called after him, "Make sure Fræg is in chains."

* * *

Thorin woke confused and struggling to draw air. Smaug, that worm got him. _'When….when did it happen?'_ His muddled mind tried to remember. Was it before or after his gold bath? _'Have to get to safety,'_ his mind reasoned and he sat up, whimpering, trying not to scream in pain.

"Thorin."

He looked at her confused. He was sure no dams went with the Company. _'Was one of his dwarrow a secret lass?'_ Someone else joined them, but who? Bilbo Baggins! Gandalf fooled them because they weren't familiar with Hobbits and Bilbo was a female. "Where am I?" He finally formed words around a parched throat.

"On the way to Erebor, my lord." It was a dark night and no fires lit her face.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Lióni," she didn't understand. He knew her.

"We already fought Smaug. No need to go and fight him again," Thorin reasoned and started shivering in the cold. He wondered why he was half naked and alone with a lass. His eyes widened. _'Did I violate her? Are we now to be pledged?'_ To his relief, she was talking again.

"My mother and grandmother went to the bushes. They will return shortly. Your guards are near and your Company is having a meeting with the lords in the caravan. They will return shortly. I volunteered to keep an eye on you, as you were asleep and they were certain for the night like you've done for the past two days."

Thorin's mind somewhat cleared, but he still couldn't place her or where he might be. And he was so cold his teeth started chattering.

Hearing his obvious chill, Lióni reached for another blanket and draped it carefully over him, mindful of his open sores. "Is there something I can do to warm you?"

"Strip and lie beside me," he ordered. He didn't care who it was; he needed to warm up and fast. His limited cognitive ability told him that much.

"If you weren't the king, I would kick you in the side for saying that to me!" Lióni was furious this animal's, when left alone with her, true nature was no better than that of a miner.

"King? He was the king….no….his father was king. "Not the king," he muttered and mercifully passed out, his body still trembling and in the dark both went unnoticed.

Lióni looked around for help in case he attacked her. Only then did she realize her father's wagon was pulled away from the rest. Her mother and grandmother stepped from the dark and she clambered over the back of the wagon in relief.

"Did our king awake?" Risári asked pleasantly.

"He did," Lióni spat in disgust.

Her tone immediately placed her under scrutiny of the two older dams.

"You sound hostile," Lári stated. "Surely you can handle one ill dwarf."

"He asked me to strip and join him," Lári fumed. "He may be a king or whatever…, but…."

"Whatever?" Risári countered sharply. "He is our king and I'll not have you disrespecting him. I'm sure you misheard and will apologize right now to him."

"I'll do no such thing," Lári snapped, unmindful she was crossing the highest ranking dwarrowdam on the caravan. "Besides, he's no king. He said so himself. Maybe he is an imposter and everyone in his Company is fooling you. Could be they are thieves and murderers, taking us away from the safety of the mountain to kill and rape us, like Skafid's wife. You only have their word of a wizard and Easterlings. We didn't see a body of Lord Skafid's wife." She chose to ignore the fact that Lord Fræg in his chains told any willing ear his tale and the death of Lord Skafid's wife.

"Are you done venting and being a complete ass?" Lári raged while Risári stood in shock such words came from her own flesh and blood.

"How do you explain the sky?" Risári inquired sharply, face flushed in anger.

"Maybe everything Fræg claims is true," Lióni snapped. "He is a threat to them and can expose their evil ways. Anyone can create Durin emblems. I tell you, that dwarf is not of royal linage after what he said to me."

"If that's all he said and you fly off the handle like a violated dwarfling, you may as well avoid him from now on. I had hopes this trip would find a spark between you, but he needs a warm, willing lass and not a frigid, snotty, insipid, trash dwarrow wannabe who just happens to be born to a lord." Lári ended her own tirade, heart heavy with disappointment. She knew deep down spoiling the lass was partly her fault. They should have nipped her desire to spar as her brother did in the bud the moment she asked. But at age twenty-five, they thought it cute. Now it was just disgusting a grown dwarrowlass would act that way.

Tears threatened to fall and Lióni was grateful Dwalin wouldn't allow fires after dark. "I see," she responded meekly. "I won't bother you again with your low opinion of me." She disappeared into the dark and wandered far enough to sit on a downed log and have a good cry. Why did she have to have the only mother and grandmother who thought a Durin could do no wrong.

Risári climbed stiffly into the wagon and sat on the makeshift seat beside the king. She reached out to make sure he was covered and felt two blankets. Placing a hand over his heart, she could feel the heat and called to Lári, "Run and get Lord Óin. Thorin is burning up and taken the chills."

Soon, she heard the pounding of booted feet and Óin, along with Dwalin leapt nimbly onto the edge of the wagon. Dwalin helped her down and perched on the edge while Óin examined him.

"He is infected, Dwalin," Óin stated in frustration. "I used boiled cloths like the elves suggested. I don't think all their fancy ways work that well. All we can do is push on and keep him comfortable. I have enough medicine if nobody else comes down sick or injured."

Late that night, Lióni slipped into her bed under the wagon, but made sure everyone was asleep first. Her mother's words stung and had more than a grain of truth to them. She didn't sleep all night and when she heard her parents start to stir, quietly rose and departed the area. That day, she walked near the middle of the caravan. They cleared the forest and were in relative flat ground with rolling hills on one side and the river the other. The ice was now chunks and moving slowly with the gentle current. She knew scouts were watching for ice jams and flooding that would force them into the hills. Dwalin didn't want that to happen because they were making excellent time on the flats. It took her a moment to see a set of feet walking right beside her. She raised her eyes to see her father watching her.

"Yer mother told me of the incident last night. Did ye know Thorin is out of his head burning up with the fever?" When she shook her head, he added, "I know Thorin wouldn't purposely advance on ye without first talking with me. That was some hard words ye had with yer mother an grandmother. Why do ye think Thorin isn't king?"

"That's what he said," she defended.

"Did he say anything else? An I'm not talkin about ye stripping. What else did he say that gave ye the impression he was following the evil one?"

Lióni tried to remember everything that was said. "Umm, he asked who I was. It was dark. He asked where he was and said he didn't need to fight Smaug again when I said we were going to Erebor. What did he mean?"

Dóvad placed an arm around her shoulders and gave a squeeze. Letting go, he had an answer. "I don't think he has ah clue where he is or maybe even who he is. He is burning up with fever from his burns. I haven't seen him directly, but queried his personal Company, who won't let anyone near him, an that's what they are claiming. I wouldn't take anything he may have said ta ye as ah personal insult."

She looked back down. "Mother said some hard things. I have let her down and not lived up to the daughter she wants. I can't pretend to be someone or something I'm just not. Before we knew about Erebor and they had just arrived, I pressed them to be allowed to leave and become a warrior in their service. I can earn my own way and not be a burden to you."

"Ye have never been that," he reassured. One of the reasons he indulged her desires was he loved to see her big blue eyes light up with joy.

"I have a question," she braved.

"Anything for my favorite daughter."

"I've been thinking on what I said about maybe Fræg being right. What if they are imposters? Shouldn't we be more careful?"

He was silent for a moment being honest with himself. After that strange night and the Durin's talking in the language of elves, he too had doubts of their motives being genuine. "Most of my accepting them comes from the faith I have in your mother an the other Longbeards. They know the Durin's. That they are real, I have no doubt because I fought with them at Azanulbizar, as did many others. It was your grandfather, Gróvad, who was in the council meetings with the Durin's during the war, so I had limited contact. Could they have gone from being faithful servants of Aulë ta the spawn of Sauron? I don't know. Only time will tell. I do know this; we are headed west an will reach the shores of the Sea of Rhûn soon. This track we are on is well used by us an I've been over it ah few times, so know they are leading us where they claim."

"That's good enough for me then. I trust your judgement." Lióni smiled up at her father. He was always so easier to talk to than her mother.


	10. 10 The Wizard

Thorin awoke and heard someone moaning. It took a moment to realize it was him. The mid-day sun caused him to squint and cover sensitive eyes with his arm although moving it was pure wretched agony. The wagon was bumping along and he was sure the driver looked for holes.

"You in your right mind?"

Thorin turned his head towards the voice and saw Dwalin riding his pony beside the wagon. "How many days have I lain here like a raw side of pork and out of my head?"

"Well, other than a couple trips over the side ye don't remember, this is the fourth day. We are nearing the bend in the river and must decide if we are taking the longer route by the sea or cut across land until picking up the Redwater and crossing the smaller stream feeding it; although all major rivers will be high with spring runoff."

Thorin groaned. "Some leader I am; riding like a dwarfling when I should be scouting and making decisions. Are they listening to you and Óin?"

Dwalin paused trying to decide how truthful to be. "We are doing fine and making good time. Land is thawing and soon we might be bogging down wagon wheels. Grass is growing on south slopes and we will have streams and ponds for water should we cut two hundred miles off our route."

Thorin read the hesitation and deflection. "You're in charge, Dwalin. You don't listen; you command."

"I'm not good at it, like you," Dwalin grumbled. "Some of the dwarves are listening to Fræg's accounting, which has grown each day and starting to think we are servants of Sauron."

Thorin snarled and attempted to sit up, but his weakness won. "When is the last time I've had any food?"

"That half cooked rabbit four days ago."

"Any sign we are being pur..sued…..uhhh?" Thorin ended the last word with a hitch as the wagon hit a bump.

Dwalin shook his head.

"I need food and preferably something hot."

Dwalin grinned his approval and kicked to pony to the front and raised his hand for them to halt.

Óin, who was taking point for a break from the wagon, raced to them. "I leave for one minute an ye can't control one kingling?" he yelled at Dwalin.

"The kingling wants food." Dwalin yelled back so loud several dwarves laughed.

"Mahal be praised, his fever has broke," Óin shouted back as he dismounted.

Dwalin motioned for the caravan to start moving again. He needed a report from his scouts, Bofur and Bifur before lighting fires.

* * *

River water was increasingly open and high with melting snows in the mountains, and this far downstream several tributaries already dumped their first offerings. They had to cross the dangerous river if opting for an overland route Dwalin, Nori and Óin favored. Bofur and Bifur liked the idea of a longer route where the river was said to split into many channels near the sea for easier crossing.

Bofur stopped his pony on a rise and looked at the bend in the river he was told to go and find. "You know, Bifur, we should have crossed when the river was frozen. What was Thorin thinking?"

"He was thinking safety," Bifur reminded him. "With Thorin injured, Dwalin is thinking speed and getting us to the mountain and help for Thorin. But you are right; we will never make it across this. I think the decision has been made for us by Queen Yavanna."

They turned their ponies back and Bofur muttered, "Dwalin isn't going to be happy."

They covered the two miles swiftly and noticed Dwalin was back in the lead and Óin in the wagon. Nori was sent by Dwalin twenty miles downstream and would return in two days with a long term report.

Pulling up, Bofur asked Dwalin, "How is he?"

"Hungry. I hope you have good news."

The cousin's exchanged smiles and Bifur answered. "Aye, about two miles is a meadow with hills for protection an ah few trees an also ah stream dumping into the river teaming with fish escaping the muddy spring melted waters."

"Tell Óin that is our destination," Dwalin ordered. "I think we can have fires tonight. I'm tired of listening to the dams complain eating hard tack and jerky is just wrong when they have potatoes, carrots and fresh meat we've provided."

Bofur, who had fallen in beside Dwalin asked, "Do you think we should rest one or two days? There is good food on the hills for the animals."

"I'll know by night if we stay or keep going," Dwalin replied, noncommitting until he saw the area.

Dwalin instructed the wagons form a large oval around the edge of the meadow and heard cheers when fires were allowed. He inspected the stream and saw fish dart away from his shadow. Soon nets were catching the evening's meal and sounds of frying fish sizzling in pans was offset by the mouthwatering aromas of stew and pan bread.

Thorin was helped from the wagon and after tending personal needs, sat on a log dragged to the fire by Dóvad's wagon. His aides this evening consisted of Bofur and Óin and he tried to hide his growing discomfort for their sakes.

Óin checked his burns and attempted to keep his face neutral, but he knew the herbs only stayed the infection and it would return until his limited assortment of was ineffective or depleted. He needed to be in the mountain where he could scrub the skin off Thorin and had a larger assortment of medicines. He hoped his cousin didn't die before then, but secretly didn't see how they would make it in time, even if they cut across the rolling hills that consisted of the plains of the Rhûn. He wiped the chest with cool wet cloths he now kept boiled and clean. As fast as he discarded a used rag, one of the dams would take it for washing and already had a cauldron with roiling water and he instructed to boil them for ten minutes or longer. Once cleaned, they were dropped in another pan for storage. It was this pan; Óin used tongs to fetch clean cloths.

Thorin sat detached, and let his mind drift to the mountain and what was happening in his absence. It helped with the searing pain Óin was inflicting on him.

"Can ye stand ah shirt?"

Thorin looked up into the eyes of the asker, Óin, who was now holding a lightweight cotton shirt he knew was loose on him, and nodded. He was fighting, but felt life slipping away due to dreaded infection and damage way beyond anything Azog inflicted. He didn't want his Company to know, but saw the truth in Óin's eyes and touch. He wanted to say words of comfort to his cousin, but now wasn't the time or place. Instead, he uttered in a tone that sounded forced to his ears, "Awe, this is better. Now I don't feel like a newborn." He let his eyes roam absent-mindedly over the older dams and focused on Lióni, who studiously avoided his eyes or assisted the others with his care. He frowned at her haughtiness and addressed her father. "I thank you for the use of your wagon. I won't be needing, as I'm well enough to sleep on the ground." He let his eyes drift back to the lass. He saw her slender body dressed in typical dwarrow clothing everyone wore in public; her light hair framing high cheekbones, a delicate nose and lips…" He tried to remember where he was and the task his father set before him. Now that he wouldn't live to take a wife, the idea didn't sound so bad.

"Hhhrrrmmmppp," Óin cleared his throat loudly, reminding Thorin he was at a fireside waiting for his supper. "Don't get cocky, Thorin. You are jacked up on Mescalshroom. Remember the mischief ye got in when ye were accidently given too much? Ye aren't acting that bad right now, but aren't yerself." He turned to Dóvad, "Keep his spot open. He just thinks he is recovered."

Thorin realized what Óin referred to and groaned. "What have I done this time? I haven't stabbed anyone, have I? And for the record, I apologized to Bilbo."

Óin threw back his head and laughed, joined by Dwalin. "Nay, Thorin, ye just propositioned the lass here." He threw a wink in Lióni's direction.

"No…" Thorin's mouth dropped open and his head whipped to where she was standing. Now her avoidance made sense and his strange unnatural affection towards her. "What did I do, lass?"

Lióni raised her head proudly. "Just ordered me to strip and join you."

The Company howled in laughter, hearing the details for the first time.

"Wait until your father hears this one," Dwalin joked in Sindarin.

"He will say, you have chosen your One and he won't need to interview the other lasses," Óin threw out in broken Sindarin, causing those who understood laugh.

The listening dwarves couldn't understand and Thorin ended the teasing. "Forgive us. They were being rather vulgar and didn't wish the dams and lass to hear two Durin's act like common low bred uncouth orcs." Amidst chuckles from his kin and Company, he motioned for a plate of food and attempted to eat, but his hands were shaking and weak.

"Can I get you something else, King Thorin?" Lári asked when his third attempt to hold a fork failed.

"I am trained to endure physical discomfort. My injuries sustained in the last battle had me accepting help for two weeks and it would have been much long had the elves not used their sorcery. I would appreciate greatly a helping hand."

"Lióni," her father barked. "Ye can assist him." He jumped in before one of Thorin's group volunteered and was relieved they kept eating.

Lióni almost whined, "Why me?" and looked to the dams. They were avoiding looking at her. With a sigh, she rose and went to him, mindful of his last words to her. Taking the fork she scooped fish into his mouth. By the third bite he shook his head. She reached for the bowl of stew and he ate two more bites.

"I've had enough, lass." She gathered his dishes when he added, "Thank you, and I am sorry for any distress I caused you. It is never my intent to hurt a lass or dam."

The Company went silent, listening, more concerned Thorin was already done than his apology to a lass. They knew Thorin hadn't eaten since that rabbit days before and he should be gobbling fish as fast as the lass could get the fork to his mouth. Óin set his plate on the ground and grabbed his herb pouch. Everyone watched him dip the cup into the boiling water and using fingers pinched from three bags into the cup. Using his knife that all dwarves carry, he mixed and set it down to cool.

Thorin was starting to hurt and the discomfort he felt in his chest since rising was constricting his breathing. His chest wouldn't expand and he couldn't get enough air in causing him to panic. He knew the scabs needed to be broken before he suffocated. Catching Dwalin's eye, he motioned him over. Through gritted teeth, he whispered in his ear.

The warrior knew sometimes to help, one had to hurt. "Do you want to get back in the wagon first?"

"Now," Thorin begged. "It tightened fast." He struggled out of his shirt with Dwalin's help.

By the time the Company and those at Dóvad's wagon registered what Dwalin was going to do, it was over.

"Mahal, ye could have warned me," Óin screamed and rushed to Thorin's side. Blood was flowing freely and he was gasping, both in pain and drawing in life saving air.

Dóvad was shocked. He hadn't seen a dwarf maim another since the war. He looked to the females and they were equally stunned. When Risári would move to the king, he laid a hand on her arm and shook his head. "Let them tend their own." They turned back to the front row seat they had, watched and listened.

Óin looked at flowing blood mingled with puss and the stench of infection wafted to the noses of the Company, who forgot their food and gathered around their prince. "Dwalin, did ye think Thorin hasn't enough exposure ta infection?"

"It was that or watch him die in the next few minutes," Dwalin defended. "He couldn't draw breath."

Mollified, Dwalin hadn't joined the forces of Sauron, Óin took a handful of sterile cloths and pressed to stanch the flow. Soon, all the Company had a cloth to Thorin's chest. With everyone concentrating on Thorin, even the guards, they missed the tall, silent figure walk into their midst until a guard cried, "Hey, that's the wizard."

The camp roused from their supper as word spread from camp to camp the wizard found them.

Dóvad reached for his axe, cursing the Durin's for placating the dams with fires that could be seen for miles.

Dwalin, Bofur and Bifur dropped their cloths in favor of weapons, as the wizard, end of staff tapping the ground with each step moved in their direction. The fire lit his face and the Company visibly relaxed, lowering weapons and hand signaling for everyone to do likewise.

Warriors gathered around to face this foe and the army he surely traveled with. They looked in the dark, but it remained serine and nothing moved in the moonlight.

Gandalf quickly approached Thorin and took a knee. "I came as swiftly as I could, Thorin," he said gently and let his hand rest on Thorin's thigh for comfort.

"Can ye help him? You know, like the elves do?" Bofur asked, recovering from his shock at seeing their wizard friend.

"No, I'm limited in healing abilities. He has to go to the elves." He looked at the burns and now slices vertically from collar bones to his belly.

"That will take too much time. He won't make such ah long trip," Óin protested and for the first time the others heard the doom pronounced on Thorin.

"The Great Eagles brought me and are on the hill." Gandalf pointed in a direction. He saw relief in the eyes of those who understood. "I'm taking him to Lothlórien."

"No," Thorin protested, drawing all eyes to him. "Lord Celeborn is adamant no dwarves enter his realm and I won't risk war with him." He switched to Sindarin lest Gandalf spill their secret. "We haven't told anyone my father lives. They think I am king."

"I see," Gandalf looked around and spotted Dóvad with three obvious females, although they sported beards.

Lióni kept her agreement and donned her beard when the intruder first appeared.

"Thorin, the healers in Lothlórien are some of the finest and the lady also has healing powers. I could take you to Thranduil, but you might end back in his dungeon and that would cause war."

"Take me to Elrond if I must choose," Thorin requested.

"Clear to Rivendell?" Óin was flabbergasted and it was apparent in his disbelieving tone.

With each sentence, Dóvad's list of questions grew. He knew of these elves and their locations from his time in the war, but also knew the distance was hundreds of miles from their current location.

"Who will lead this group of Longbeards if you aren't here?" Gandalf asked and shifted so Óin could bind long strips of cloth around Thorin's chest.

"Dwalin," was Thorin's tired reply. He looked down at the pool of blood that now soaked his pants and knew his situation went from bad to worse and he hadn't much time. He would like to see the lads before he died and his father again. "Take me home, Gandalf. Let me die in Erebor if we don't make it to the elves."

Without hesitation, Gandalf reached in his own leather bag slung over his shoulder and dug something out and put it in Thorin's mouth. "Eat this," he ordered. At Óin's questioning look, he explained. "Elven medicine. It will slow his functions down to a crawl and allow me to get him to Erebor. Erestor is there and has healing skills as you have witnessed. When we stabilize him, I'll have the eagles fly him and Erestor over the mountains to Rivendell. Elrond is his best hope." He looked at Óin and Dwalin and included Bofur and Bifur.

"I have Mescalshroom," Óin offered. At Gandalf's nod, he quickly set about fixing another cup. He noticed the first cup he prepared was now cold, so tossed it and started anew.

"How come yer here?" Dwalin asked for everyone. He noticed several Longbeard leaders gathered around to see for themselves a wizard. A few of the old ones remembered Gandalf from when he married Thráin to Lis.

"I was on top of Redhorn Pass when the wizard attacked Thorin. The elves and I fought back and by morning Gwaihir and Landroval were overhead and according to them, they were sent from Lord Manwë, who rarely involves himself directly in the affairs of Middle Earth. They gave me a lift; first to Caras Galadhon to consult with the lord and lady of the Galadhrim and then I flew east looking for you."

"Did you fly over the Sea of Rhûn?" Bifur asked.

"We flew just north, but could see it to the south. I was looking for orcs, Easterlings and of course the malevolent wizard who did this to Thorin. I flew over Nori just as he was setting up a camp for the night. I stopped and he directed me up the river to here and is heading back in the morning."

"Good, I need him close," Dwalin stated, happy to hear Nori was doing well.

"We haven't a clue what is happening at Mordor. I'm taking Thorin to Erebor and returning here. I've already instructed my horse, Shadowfax, to come and he is running across open spaces as I speak. I will lead you to Erebor." He saw relief on Dwalin's face and smiled. "But, Dwalin, you are more than capable of leading. I am present to thwart evil, not settle petty grievances among dwarves. They have three Durin's still here for that." He looked fondly at Bofur and Bifur and added, "And two of the finest lords to carry the title."

"What about Fræg?" Bofur asked. "He is the reason Thorin is in bad shape. If he hadn't run from us and led us into that swarm of Easterlings, Thorin would be healthy. Can he go on the back of an eagle so we aren't tempted to drown him in the river?"

Gandalf soberly pondered the situation. "He will have to ride by himself and better not try anything or his trip with be clutched in the talons of Landroval." He had a thought. "Stay here until I return. This is a good place and there is a band of bison two hills to the south for fresh meat. I'm going to round up more Great Eagles and we will carry everything across the river and make a straight line to Erebor. That will take weeks off your river route."

"Is there water?" Óin asked, trumpet still planted in his ear. "The animals need water."

"When you traveled east, did you see water?" Gandalf challenged.

"There was snow and we melted it for water," Dwalin answered and saw where Gandalf was going with his question. "The snow is melting and forming puddles and ponds. Besides the bison need water and we saw massive herds. Thorin liked the safety of trees that line the river should we be attacked. There is extensive plains on the route you suggest."

"There is plenty of water this time of year," Gandalf assured them. He looked down at Thorin, who was asleep, chin on his damaged chest.

"Sir, this is Lord Fræg." A guard led the shacked dwarf to the wizard.

Gandalf rose to his full height and saw fear in the face of the one he wanted to punish for stupidity. "You will come with us," he ordered sternly. "I warn you; if you give the Great Eagles any trouble you'll make the trip in their sharp talons."

"I don't understand why I must be taken to this mountain at all or in chains. I gave my word I'll not try and escape. I learned my lesson," Fræg complained to the only presence that he had yet to air his complaints since leaving Jötunheim.

"You will understand in time." Gandalf spun and let out a whistle. "Clear the area," he ordered and everyone moved way back when the largest birds they ever saw glided in and landed. The Company greeted the eagles and Gandalf gave instructions. "Gwaihir, once again I am placing Thorin Oakenshield in your protective care. I need you to carry us to Erebor, and Landroval, I need you to take Lord Fræg. He is the one who must answer..." he trailed off before saying the king.

A massive white head with large intelligent eyes looked at Fræg. "You will be more comfortable on my back."

"They talk?" An astounded Dóvad asked and with his son Tóvad at his side, approached the large carrions.

Gandalf looked to Dwalin, who made introductions. When done, Gandalf motioned to the eagles.

Landroval carefully scooped Thorin in his talons while Bofur ran up with _Orchrist_ and a small bag of personal items. Everyone watched in awe as Gandalf took the items and jumped with alacrity that belied his outward appearance of an elderly man onto Gwaihir's back and accepted Thorin from Landroval's talons, as he hovered over his brother for a moment. He crouched and with smiles of evil glee, Bifur and Bofur snagged Fræg by each arm and tossed him onto the back of the Great Eagle. Without waiting to see if his charge was settled, Landroval took flight, followed by Gwaihir.

Dóvad and the Longbeard lords gathered around Dwalin and Óin. "Ye left out parts of yer story," Dóvad accused.

Dwalin and Óin exchanged glances and the later asked in Sindarin, "Now that Thorin and Fræg are gone, should we prepare them?"

Bofur spoke up in the same language, "I say we don't until Gandalf returns and gives us advice."

The Company nodded and Dwalin addressed Dóvad, "It is a long story and we wait permission to say more."

* * *

"Come, lass, help clean the wagon so it can be put back the way it was," Lári instructed her daughter.

"Without a sound or protest, Lióni joined her. She hadn't spoken to her mother or grandmother since their outbursts against her, although she performed any task they issued.

"Well, are you satisfied these Durin's are on our side?" Lári asked as she folded thick bedding Thorin laid on.

Lióni remained apathetically silent as she worked. She didn't want to agree with her mother, but Thorin's injuries were real and she had a thought she may never see him again and that strangely disturbed her. She thought back to the time they were outside on the mountain and his deep voice which wasn't supercilious or piqued she was disturbing his private meditation. She knew her affront at his fevered suggestion was exaggerated and she wasn't half as offended as she pretended. No, she acknowledged, it was her mother and grandmother's attitudes that angered her. They would have bartered her off like the other dams did their daughters and granddaughters and that was what was troubling her. That and her brother was treated like a lord's son among the warriors, including Durin's guards, while she was regarded as a lass, good for nothing except birthing dwarflings and washing dishes. Her dreams were vanishing with each step closer to Erebor. She would talk with Dwalin for she heard Bofur make a crack to Nori to hurry or the General would be angry. It was when Dwalin ordered Nori to scout miles down the river and when he left, he threw a mock salute to Dwalin and stated, 'I'm off your Generalship.'

With a sigh, Lári gave up trying to engage her. "Go and wash dishes; I'll finish here."

Shortly Dóvad sidled to wagon's edge and spoke quietly, "Did ye have that talk with her?"

"No, she is still giving me the cold shoulder. We have a long ways to go and will mend our spat before journey's end."

Tóvad is easy compared to her," Dóvad admitted. "I'm sure that's why Mahal gave us more sons than daughters. We couldn't handle more than one at ah time."

Lári shook her finger playfully at him and he grinned at the reaction he was looking for.


	11. 11 Favored Son

"Stop, stop, stop," Taíban rushed through the dwarves halting their efforts in digging fire pits and stripping saplings used to string strips of meat. When their attention was his, he added, "Lord Círdan has sent word your game is to be processed in our ovens in the Havens. Also, the lord is going with you all the way to Erebor with enough elves to insure your arrival."

"We don't possess the large horses ta transport that much meat so far without spoilage," Barad, son of Garad and cousin to Fili and Kili growled skeptically. He motioned for work to resume.

"Wagons are on their way," Taíban enthusiastically continued, lowering his gaze to meet the leader of the hunting dwarves. Garad sent his own son to recover his disappointment in not being asked to help move dwarves across the continent. Barad was to be in charge until his father returned. He knew his cousin, Fili, in time would supplant him; another disenchantment in his life.

"An when will these wagons arrive?" Barad asked.

"By nightfall."

* * *

That evening Elladan walked among skinned animals strung on poles balanced tree limbs and counted. "Ten elk and eight bucks. Not a bad first day's hunt. I told you dwarves there was game down here. Our time in the Haven's wasn't wasted and the taverns provided valuable information; for instance the Mithlond elves are getting soft and prefer domesticated meat over the tastier wild game we eat, and most of them have lost their hunting skills."

"Or another reason could be many elves are sailing," Taíban inserted dryly, ignoring the younger elf's attempts to bait him.

Elladan rolled his eyes in the direction of the dwarves and saw them chuckle. Normally elves were taciturn and aloof and they found these Peredhil, as the twins called themselves, to be approachable; the one called Taíban, not so much.

"I spoke with the rider and he hurried back to the line of wagons headed this way to guide them here," Taíban insisted when it looked like the dwarves would continue. "Why don't you hunt again in the morning while we prepare the meat for transport? Unless you fancy boning meat and loading it in our large wagons," he threw out.

Barad looked up at Elladan, "Elf, does he speak truth?"

Elladan's merry eyes took his fellow elf in before answering. "He only lies at card games and to his wife. If he says wagons are headed our way, believe him. I for one am hunting again in the morning."

Fili looked at Elrohir and he was staring at the meat, lost in thought. "What is going on in that elven brain of yours, Elrohir?"

"I'm doing something dwarves hate to do; calculating how much dry meat is hanging. Each bull is ninety five stone and a third is bone, so half that is forty eight stone minus a third is thirty two stone or four hundred and fifty pounds more or less per animal. If we use draft horses, one horse per elk and one per three bucks of dried meat should be enough for all this meat."

"How long did it take you to learn the formulas?" Fili asked impressed with the numbers Elrohir threw out.

"I learned them young. By eight hundred, I could accurately guess the hoof weight before shooting," Elrohir stated.

Elladan laughed. "We learned them by age hundred. Our daeradar, known in common tongue as Celeborn, took us on a long trip and we did naught else but hunt and calculate our food. Well, I learned. El is a lot slower than me." He smirked at his identical face.

"We have company," Taíban inserted.

The twins reached for bows and melded into the trees while dwarves scrambled for weapons and stood ready. With little sound, a line of wagons rolled into the area and elves immediately started unharnessing the draft horses while the leader on horseback looked around before dismounting. With a slight bow to Taíban, he delivered his message once again; this time to the dwarves. It was he who scouted and encountered Taíban. "Lord Círdan has offered to Lord Gróin our meat processing halls and elves. Lord Gróin accepted on your behalf. Lord Círdan has allocated fifty horses for a trip to Erebor. He suggests you hunt until all are laden."

The twins silently reappeared and Elrohir addressed the messenger. "And Círdan plans on each horse returning with a barrel of wine?"

Without smiling, the elf replied, "I wouldn't know. Lord Círdan only issued orders for meat."

The twins looked at each other in amusement. "We volunteer to stay and hunt."

Taíban replied with longsuffering, "I didn't expect you two to do aught else."

* * *

"The dwarves are to room above the Laurelin Tavern. Lord Círdan requests your presence for supper," the gatekeeper announced when the twins stopped with the dwarves behind the rolling wagons, which kept moving towards the marina. He showed his distain at the next part of his message. "After the dwarves have bathed, they are also invited to the palace for a repast."

"We will take it from here," Elladan instructed and with a sweep of his hand for the dwarves to follow, stroll at their head to the tavern, where a stable was located next door and soon the ponies were eating finest of oats and turned into a paddock of lush grass. After taking the unveiled bathing advice, they were collected by none other than Taíban and led to a massive house.

Barad was duly impressed at the large rooms and indoor trees bearing fruit this early in the year. They were led into a large dining chamber and eyes beheld an oaken keg that could only contain ale. Almost two weeks without a drop had the dwarves edgy and in withdrawals.

"Lord Círdan insists you help yourselves. He will be here shortly," Taíban instructed and almost didn't finish before a dwarf was drawing rounds and tossing them across the room where equally adept dwarves caught them. He watched in amazement as the first mug was upended and drained and the room filled with belches that put elves to shame. He had a sneaking suspicion Círdan missed this ritual on purpose.

The twins entered and looked much cleaner and their robes were pressed by servants while they were in the baths. They forgo ale for wine. "Lord Barad, I spoke with Mithlond's butcher and he says he requires the help of the dwarves to assure the meat is as they favor," Elrohir said after he drained half his glass of wine.

"Aye, will they allow us ah good night's sleep?" Barad knew elves could work for days if needed.

"They are slicing meat tonight and tomorrow the spicing and smoking begins. Fires are lit and burning hickory down to embers for a great smoked flavor. What do dwarves usually spice with?" Taíban inquired.

"The best I ever had was seasoned with rock salt and pepper," Fili added his own preference. He looked at the twins. "It was given to us at Rivendell, come to think of it."

"We had some horses die," Elladan confessed soberly.

Fili's eyes widened. "That was horse?"

"It was some of Elrond's finest beef," Círdan set the record straight as he entered, with a stern look to Elladan. "I don't need word getting back to the dwarves we gave them horse. Must I remind you two we have over a thousand miles to travel with these dwarves? I insist you two don't do one thing Elrond has to explain to Lord's Gróin and Garad. If he does, I'm filing a formal complaint with the ranking lord of the Galadhrim that his overseeing Elrond's parenting was lacking and I'm sure Lord Celeborn will take issue with your adar, hopefully with his sword."

"I'm homesick," Elrohir muttered with an exaggerated sniff. "You even used Erestor's inflection."

"I mean every word," Círdan threatened. He addressed the room, "Along that sideboard under silver domes are piles of meat for you and greens for us. Of course, you are also invited to the greens." He led the way and took a glass plate in a stack and filled it. Sitting at the head of the long table, he waited for his guests to join him and invited Barad to sit at his right and Fili his left and Kili beside him. He saw the twins take spots across from them beside Barad.

The dwarves took the meat out of politeness, but it looked strange to them. Fili took a bite first and everyone watched his reaction. "Is this horse? I don't recognize this meat."

"Just great," Elladan thundered with a twinkle in his grey eyes, "you get on us for jesting about feeding dwarves horse and then turn around and actually give it to them."

"I am sending a letter to your daeradar." Círdan snapped, then addressed Fili much more civilly. "What you are eating is from the sea. It is a fish that grows several hundred pounds called a tuna. Have you ever eaten that type of seafood?"

Fili wasn't sure. Kili saved him an answer. "We guarded a wagon train of men that came by Thorin's Halls and were lost. They were taking the pass north of us to the sea. When we arrived the fishermen were fileting one and we tried it. This is good; much better than what we got served in the town of men by the sea."

Hearing the strange colored meat was good, the dwarves dug in hungrily while Taíban expounded on how elven spices made the difference.

"Your father informed me, Lord Barad, that you will be in charge of Thorin's Halls while he is gone. Should you require assistance beyond Lord Estoras' services, come to the Havens and ask for Lord Galdor. He is in charge of this side of Eriadore in my absence. I've longed to visit Erebor. I sent Galdor in my stead two hundred years ago when Gandalf organized a summit. You boys were there," Círdan addressed the twins with his eyes and felt their fëas darken.

"It was a difficult time for us. Adar insisted we attend and work as guards on the trip. We cut trails of orcs and Adar wouldn't allow us our sport," Elrohir related, with eyes on his plate of succulent greens and large slab of flaky tuna.

"We never made it home that winter. Adar gave us leave at the Anduin and we tracked the orcs north to Gundabad. That winter we plagued anything foolish enough to leave their hallowed walls," Elladan finished.

"I wish to do that," Kili snarled to nobody in particular. "I didn't kill enough of them at the battle."

The twins unreadable glances. "Hey Kili, we have something to show you and Fili," Elladan switched subjects and forces enthusiasm he didn't feel.

Reading their thoughts, Círdan informed everyone, "You better go after supper. It won't be here tomorrow."

"You mean?" Elrohir asked with dread.

Círdan let a hint of smile appear. "Go and see."

* * *

The twins volunteered to be guides for the dwarves and gave them a tour of Mithlond, starting at the docks by route through Círdan's manicured grounds on a stone path that Elladan was carried when he fell off the bluff so many centuries before. They stopped at water's edge and stood still.

Looking around the dwarves didn't see any reason to stand in silence. "What are you looking for?" Fili asked for the dwarves.

"That," Elladan said excitedly and pointed into the harbor. "I didn't expect an adult."

"Wow," Elrohir echoed softly.

"Well, I'll be," Barad exclaimed and other dwarves looked in awe. "Is that one of the whales our dwarfling fables tell of?"

An elf came to them. "She entered the harbor two days ago looking for her baby." He pointed and a lighter sliver swimming at her side, almost invisible against her mass. "Best as we can tell, sharks were waiting for her to calve and eat the baby. She pushed the baby into our harbor and we think she knew we would help until she returned. She led the sharks many days out to sea and then returned. It is unimaginable they are so smart."

"How do you know all this?" Elladan asked.

"Lord Círdan talked to her," the elf answered as if it were a normal occurrence. "You talk to your horses and they understand."

"I just never thought of talking to wildlife."

"Durin's Folk talk to ravens," Fili reminded everyone.

"Mithrandir and elves talk to the Great Eagles," Elrohir added. "And Radagast talks to all animals and I think Mithrandir can also."

"I didn't think it extended to creatures of the sea. El and I must offer a prayer for their safety," Elladan explained. The dwarves watched with interest as both elves turned towards the west. "Oh Lady Elbereth who cannot do but the will of Eru Ilúvatar, hear our pleas for long life and rich feeding grounds for the whale you allowed us to know…."

"And keep those who would harm mother and son far from them," Elrohir ended and both bowed from the waist. Turning to the dwarves, Elrohir declared, "And now we will show you where your meat is being prepared. The meat is being soaked in seawater tonight to accept spices deeper into the meat when added tomorrow."

* * *

"Easy, Thorin, you don't want to slide off," Gandalf warned him while tightening his grip when the dwarf started trashing. They flew through the night and the mountain was in sight in the cold dawn sun now resting upon their backs and causing the snowy peak to shine like a guiding light.

Hearing Gandalf's voice, Thorin moaned in pain, memories returning and he pried his eyes open. "So this is what I missed last ride with the eagles. I've listened to everyone try and explain what it was like and words can't describe the sight and feeling of flying. It truly is like the Company said; like being an eagle." He allowed Gandalf to reach around him and hold a worn leather skin with a metal flange and stem. He recognized it of dwarven make just before it reached his lips. A melody of herbs woke his taste buds as liquid splashed across his tongue and he swallowed.

"A little something Óin mixed for your trip," Gandalf explained. "He wants you to sleep for much of it. He can't stop the pain from Dwalin's knife work."

"I see the Mountain. It's beautiful; a diamond fit for a lady's hand."

Gandalf grinned; glad he was perched behind Thorin so the prince couldn't see. "I know what you were thinking when dosed."

"That the sight of the Mountain will never get old?" Thorin hazard a guess.

Gandalf chuckled, "Or your mind is starting to warm to the idea of a wife and heir your father wants to hold in his arms before dying."

Thorin snorted.

"When I was in Lothlórien, word came that your uncle, Lord Fárin, is on the road and it will be interesting to see who arrives first, him or the dwarves from Jötunheim," Gandalf spoke conversationally, hoping to distract Thorin until he was asleep. He felt his charge relaxing and guessed one more boring tidbit would have the prince pain free in slumber. "You know the eagles are going to need food before the next leg, which is almost as far as we've already come."

"They can hunt the mountain," Thorin slurred and his head dropped forward.

Gandalf pulled him back and allowed his arms to once again support his upper body. He watched the mountain grow closer and glanced to his left. Perching carefully, hands still gripping feathers was Fræg. He had offered to toss him the water skin, but the dwarf called back he wasn't letting go.

* * *

The horn sounded, causing Balin to lift his head from his ledgers. As his office was close to the rampart, he was first up the stone steps and looking where the guard pointed. Two flying objects the size of the fell beast were growing faster than he liked.

"Should I muster the guard, Sir?"

Balin looked closely as Dori and Ori joined him. He glanced to his right when he felt presence that normally wouldn't invade his space. "Ori, run to the king and tell him to stay out of sight in case we are under attack. Dori, find the elf and bring him here." Balin then shook his head at the guard who asked the question. "Nay lad, two can't get past our new iron gates." Something caught his eye and he saw the newly knighted lord, Theigard, Bard's second racing to the mountain on a horse Thranduil sold them.

"Shall we open for him or make him come in from the stables?"

"Let him in," Balin ordered and shook his head that a dwarf would think about blocking their closest allies from the mountain. He would speak with Dáin. He frowned. _'Where was Dáin?'_ he pondered as the specks sprouted visible wings.

As in answer to his silent question, Dáin appeared, fully armored, weapons in hand.

"You took your sweet time," Balin teased.

"I was in the family chambers. I was just informed of an event from the dwarrowdams that had me shaken an unable ta leave. I sat in shock an then demanded how it happened. Ignore the laughter, snickers and biology lessons when ye see me with them."

Young Thorin raced up. "I was in the training arena when word came we might be under attack."

"I personally was attacked by the dams just this afternoon when I stopped in ta greet them and see if they wanted ta eat in the formal chambers with the king," Dáin humorously stated. "Ye might as well hear it from me before ye do something that proves ye are my offspring an ask ah dumb question ye should already know the answer to."

"No way that would happen ta me," Thorin arrogantly stated while Balin laughed softly at his youthful certainty.

"Yer mother is with dwarfling," Dáin snorted.

Balin laughed heartily and Thorin gasp out, "How do ye know?"

"That, my son, proves ye are my boy. I know because yer mother told me. Since she is somewhat an expert, I took her word."

"Congratulations," Balin slapped him on the back. "A dwarfling and Durin to boot. Does Thráin know?"

"I was still processing the information when the horn sounded. Before I got out the door, Azie accused me of mentally telling the guard to blow it so I could escape." He looked around for his assigned guard, who was back at his post higher up by the horn. "Remind me ta thank him later."

"I'm going ta have ah brother," Thorin stated with awe in his tone.

"Could be another lass," Balin reminded him.

"No way, Father isn't you."

Even Dáin laughed.

Erestor silently appeared and looked to the sky with his superior eyesight. "It's Great Eagles with riders on their backs. I would bet it has something to do with the lights we saw."

Balin snorted, "I just remembered, you were telling a story about Glorfindel coming back here when we were sidetracked and we never did get back to it."

Erestor gave a stony look they saw right through. "I was hoping nobody remembered. I am quite enjoying my break from him."

"I would like to hear it. Maybe after a pitcher of wine, you will feel more like sharing," Balin pressed.

Theigard's boots pounded on the steps. "We heard the invasion cadence. Are we at war again?"

"No, Lord Theigard," Erestor replied for all, "it's the Great Eagles with Mithrandir and Thorin on the back of Gwaihir, leader of the eagles, and on the back of his brother, Landroval, is an unknown dwarf."

"Open the doors again," Dáin yelled down the stairs and from overhead, they saw the top edge of the iron doors swing out.

The eagles lined up single file and floated through the massive doors, talons making scratching sounds on stone as they set down.

Dáin led the charge down the steps and was at Gwaihir's side before Gandalf could yell for healers.

Seeing Balin and Dáin and lesser Durin's in front of gathering dwarves and Erestor lurking just behind, Gandalf spoke to him. "Lord Erestor, you are just the one I am seeking. Thorin was attacked by the dark wizard and is gravely injured once again." He looked around. "Where is Thráin?"

"Thráin?" Fræg exploded. "No way he lives!"

Gandalf raised his staff and with a gentle nudge, knocked Fræg off Landroval's back. He landed on his back with an, "ooofff."

"Yes Fræg, you imbecile; Thráin survived, both as a prisoner of Dol Guldur and your incompetence," Gandalf thundered and handed Thorin into Erestor's waiting arms.

Dáin was moving at the name and it was he who lifted Fræg by the front of his tunic and stood him on his feet. "So ye are the one who has so much ta answer for." He snapped an order to his guards. "Take him out of my sight."

"Wait," a hand descended on his shoulder and he knew the voice. He turned to catch Thráin's reaction. The king was studying the healer like a bug he was about to pull the wings off. Without another word, Thráin hurried to his son and reached for his arm, feeling for life. "Will he live?"

"He needs Elrond," Gandalf gently explained. He jumped from the large avian's back and looked up to his ride, Gwaihir. "Go and hunt. We will be here stabilizing Thorin for the next leg of his trip and I have answers for King Thráin before Lord Fræg has his turn."

The eagles turned, hopped through the door and took flight.

Fræg felt his knees shake. _'Did Erebor get taken by evil beings and wizards and those loyal to Sauron?'_ Other than hands on his shoulders, for the moment he was forgotten.

Thráin squeezed with the hand still on his son's arm. "What are his injuries?"

"He was severely burned tracking down Lord Fræg, who decided to run away. From what Dwalin and Óin told me; and what Fræg added on the way here, I have a fair idea what happened. We flew for twenty hours with no food for Fræg and Lembis for me," Gandalf hinted. He turned to Erestor. "Take him to the Halls of Healing and prepare him to go to Elrond. I need you to take him, as I'm returning to Dwalin. Thorin needs to be wakened and fed and his personal needs met."

There was a moment of silence while Erestor hurried away with Thorin cradled in his arms surrounded by several healers. Thráin then turned his attention to Fræg. "Take Lord Fræg ta ah room an place him under guard an give him some food."

Dáin grabbed his arm. "I'll take ye personally an really hope ye try ta mess with me."

"Join us when done, Dáin," Thráin ordered and led the way to Durin Folk's private dining area. He didn't wait to see who would join him for a meal, but wasn't surprised when all Durin's, including young Thorin and Bombur followed, and Gandalf stated he would join them in a moment as he hurried to a latrine near the door.

Bombur directed supper and before mugs of ale were passed around, Dáin was back and as he slid in his spot noticed Gandalf was back in his customary place at the opposite end of the table from the king.

"Tell me of yer journey since ye left my halls, Gandalf," Thráin requested and as they ate they listened to the story Gandalf entertained them with. Finally he ended when the eagles descended into the mountain that coincided with his last bite of food.

"It's comforting ta know the wizard is far from here," was Thráin's first comment.

"I've changed my plans because of this wizard," Gandalf replied, his visage stern. "I will guide the Longbeards who took exile in Jötunheim." He looked towards the door when Erestor entered.

"Thorin is ready to fly again." He sat and thanked the servant who placed a plate of food before him. "I need to gather a few personal items and will be ready. I trust my horse will be taken care of?" He looked to Thráin.

"Aye, we will feed your horse until someone comes for him."

"I expect it will be me claiming him when I accompany the dwarves from Ered Luin," Erestor replied and ate while Gandalf regaled them with stories of his horse.

"I sent Thranduil's horse back to him before I left the Golden Wood. My old companion, Shadowfax, came at my whistle. He is offspring of the Mearas Lord Oromë brought to these lands in the days before the dwarves and elves awakened. They can run faster and longer than other horses."

"Is that what the elves raced that day?" Thráin asked.

Gandalf nodded. "It is. They are prized animals and each has a story. Asfaloth, owned by Glorfindel, came from Aman with him when he returned. That is basically the same blood and also superior to domestic horses of men. It is a rare man who can ride one. Of course elf lords ride nothing else; including that beast Erestor has here. They can cover great distances in a short amount of time. I've ridden Shadowfax, my wild stallion for days on end, night and day. When Legolas and the twins rode to Gundabad and back, they were on the backs of Mearas. No normal horse can withstand running hundreds of miles without stopping."

"How old is he?" Dáin inquired. He saw his son hang on every word and was happy all of the sudden to have another on the way. He was losing his firstborn to the world of adults. Shoving silly sentimental thoughts out, he concentrated on the story.

"Shadowfax is around a hundred, just hitting his prime. Those horses live close to five hundred years. They only live in the Riddermark and the horsemen of Rohan bred a hybrid with domestic animals that are suited for them. Many elves favor the tamer Rohirrim crosses so Elrond breeds them for the Havens and Dúnedain Warriors.

"Will the horse give us any problems?" Dori asked.

Erestor shook his head. "He is used to other races and like any horse, he thinks with his stomach. Feed him well, and he will eat, sleep and get fat."

"Will he need exercise?" Thorin Stonehelm asked. "I could let him out to run."

"Okay, all you have to do is open his stall door. Before I leave, I will tell him he must stay and I will return for him."

"And he will understand?" Thorin sounded skeptical.

"As well as a raven." Erestor finished eating, rose and hurried off, first to the stables and then to his assigned quarters and packed. He opted to leave his saddle and tack, only taking his bag of personal belongings. He hurried back to the Halls of Healing to check Thorin.

Thorin was sipping soup from an inclined position. Seeing Erestor, he said to his attendant, "That's enough for now." He let Erestor run glowing hands over his chest and stomach, quicker to admit this time to himself the elves were the best healers.

"They say I'm being taken to the House of Elrond. Why cannot you heal me here?"

Erestor finished and picked the cup of soup up. "You need to drink all of this. It is a blend of mushrooms and I've been told it is one of your favorites." He held the cup to his patient's mouth, happy to see Thorin finish the rest in one sitting. He set the cup down. "Elrond has skills I don't possess. My healing training is more for battle or in the words of Elrond, crude. I assist Elrond or other healers, but am not one."

"Sounds like our healers. Dwarves are either born with the gift or have rudimentary skills," Thorin replied and was grateful without asking to lie flat again when the elf removed the pillows.

"Óin told me of his training here in the mountain," Erestor confided and accepted the leather pouch of herbs to keep Thorin unconscious and pain free during the flight. "He is looking forward to training a new generation within these halls he informed me." A shadow fell across a light and he turned to see Dáin waiting. Erestor motioned him to the bed.

"I see ye are back ta being helpless as ah newborn dwarfling," Dáin teased his cousin.

"I don't see why Mahal keeps teasing me with death," Thorin complained. "If he wants me in his halls, he needs to stop messing it up."

"They are packing yer things. I hope the eagle can make it over the mountain with all Dori is packing for ye. Did Lord Erestor give ye ah date when ye'll be back this way?" Both looked at Erestor, trying not to eavesdrop.

He gave up and answered, "I would hope he is with the dwarves from Ered Luin. Elrond is the better judge though."

Ori ran in with messages, "The king wants to know why the delay, Dáin, and the eagles are back." He looked down at Thorin. "I envy you the trip. I loved flying on the eagles. Take care."

"I hope to be awake longer this time," Thorin rejoined and patted the younger dwarf's forearm.

"I have ta go, Thorin," Dáin stated. "Before I leave, Azie informed me this afternoon that I'm ta be ah father again."

Thorin laughed and then cursed at the lancing pain that threatened to rip his ribs apart, and Erestor offered his congratulations.

"Ye gotta have one, Thorin, so they can grow up as we did." With a wave, he was gone.


	12. 12 Doom Of Fræg

"I can't even give my son ah hug," Thráin lamented and gripped Thorin's hand briefly. Too weak to walk, Erestor carried him from the Healing Halls; his father at his side. Thorin tried to tell him a little of his trip until Thráin halted him, "We will have time when ye get better an return. Save yer strength."

They watched Gandalf bustle around the big birds issuing instructions and asking Landroval to pass on his messages to the council of Eagles at the Eyrie on top of crags over sheer cliffs nothing without wings could scale. "Send your son, Valtron, honorable Landroval. I only trust the safe delivery of Prince Thorin to you and Gwaihir. Valtron will make you proud leading Great Eagles to assist the dwarves."

"Lord Manwë sent the Valar Oromë to us at the Eyrie. He did not say which Maia turned, but ordered the dwarves assisted because Erebor is needed," Gwaihir responded.

Gandalf's shoulders drooped in sorrow at a friend who turned. "It is as I feared. We will be vigilant, my friend. Fly safe." He stepped back as Erestor parted the dwarves; armor in place and Thorin in his arms. He handed his package to Gandalf and bounded with elven dexterity to the back of Gwaihir and reached for Thorin.

The leading citizens of Erebor ran up the steps to the rampart while Gandalf lay bags before the feet of Landroval to scoop up before he left. He stepped out of the reach of the wings so not to be knocked off his feet and watched his old friends take flight. He hurried to the rampart to stand behind the shorter dwarves.

In sorrow his son bore the brunt of an evil wizard, Thráin watched the eagles flap their long wings and lift into the evening sky. Thorin was wrapped in a fur blanket of black mink that draped over Erestor's legs, keeping him warm on the long night flight. They didn't waiver their stance or gaze until the specks disappeared against the setting sun of burnt orange that pained eyes that were accustomed to life underground.

Thráin sighed and addressed Dáin. "Bring Lord Fræg an let's move this party ta the throne."

Dáin bowed his head in respect and hurried off the rampart and issued the order to General Lötun.

"I would like to be present, King Thráin," Gandalf requested. He was never at the mountain when Thrór ruled under the Arkenstone, but he heard rumors….strange, strange rumors.

"Ye wish ta see ah ruler in action?" Thráin jested and led the way down the steps with Balin taking up post on his right and Gandalf towering at his left. Done with giving commands, Dáin walked three steps ahead, Warhammer in his right hand and left resting on the hilt of his sword.

"It would be most interesting. After all, I've never seen you on the throne. I want to see if you are half the dwarf your father was," Gandalf jokingly replied with a benign smile.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Thráin moved them into the throne area and let his eyes center fractionally above the seat before being mesmerized by the Arkenstone, now reset in the repaired chair. He sat down and let Balin take his right and Dáin his left in Thorin's place. The other's spread to each side of the throne and it was an impressive display of royal power that greeted Fræg when he appeared at the far end of the catwalk.

He felt his doom looming with each reluctant step, but the point of a sword in the middle of his spine kept his booted feet moving in pace of his captors. His eyes were focused; focused that is on the shining stone that danced with a mélange of mesmerizing colors, all seeming to grab his attention at once and he could stare at it for hours. He forced his eyes down and the apparition of King Thráin was now seated on the throne; his countenance enigmatic. He saw neither welcome nor hostility, just that same expression he first saw and a hand on his shoulder stopped him on the platform below the raised dais. He bowed low, straightened and waited.

"You spread lies about me, Lord Fræg. How did you come to the conclusion I was the king in charge of Dol Guldur?" While officiating from the throne, Thráin honored the tradition of his fathers and never allowed the argot their race preferred to disrespect the call of Durin's to rise above the proletariat.

Fræg braved a look down the line of Durin's Folk and decided the king was his closest ally of the group by the angry expressions on the rest. Swallowing a large lump, he looked the king in his one eye. Speaking formally, he answered. "My lord, I did as you charge, but not out of malice to you or any Durin. I reported what I saw in the portents."

"What do you use to achieve your readings?" Balin asked, although the Durin's knew. The pouch Nori pilfered from Fræg's healing ward was given to Gandalf by Óin who guessed, and now was being examined by the healers in the Mountain.

"I personally observe the stars alignment and when they are right, I gather potent holy basil leaves for a tea and toss tincal onto the fire and watch the flames until visions come." He knew that was standard dwarven portent reading for healers, who doubled as seers. In fact it was the ability to read presages for training to be a healer. All dwarves, male and female were tested at age fifty. Only one in three hundred had the ability and deemed worthy for training in amalgamation of skill and oracle. It had been generations since one of the Durin bloodline tested positive for the skill and healers held a place of honor among the clans.

"And you don't add peyot root to your tea?" Dáin silkily inquired; remembering all Durin's were required to use formal speech while at the throne.

Fræg's face lost all color. "That is banned for healers when reading portents."

"And do you know why?" Thráin asked.

"All healers are taught the history of what happened when it was commonly used." He stopped short of giving the lesson, knowing Óin or a healer wasn't present to spell it out. He didn't presume Durin's were taught dwarven healing history. He was wrong.

A healer hurried from a side door, rushed to the throne and stood several feet from Fræg.

Thráin's eye shifted. "Report."

"It is peyote root. We use it ta put dwarrow in the mood when they are slow ta awaken when chosen ta wed."

Thráin signaled and the reporting healer was quietly told his services were finished by his assigned guard, whose duty was to escort the healer from the Halls of Healing to the throne and back again and wait to be relieved. The healer wasn't allowed to speak with anyone until a Durin came. Thráin didn't want the healer to disclose his part in the trial.

"And if you use too much?" Ori braved a question and hoped Dori didn't hit him in front of everyone.

Fræg looked at the youth and almost laughed at his impudence. He chose not to answer.

Thráin looked at something behind Fræg and the latter fell on his face struggling to catch his breath and was sure ribs were caved in or at the very least bruised. He was hauled to his feet; taking in the stormy eyes of General Lötun and his Warhammer. He was without doubt the General welded the weapon and would once more with dangerous accuracy should he not answer.

"When ah Durin ask ye ah question, it is less painful if ye just answer."

Fræg looked at the line of Durin's until at last settled on the youngster. "Too much causes the mind to see things."

Emboldened, Ori gave his own display of knowledge. "Legend says the seers always used it in the First Age and it was that particular root which gave the dwarves in Nogrod a false sense of ownership over the Nauglamír and enhanced their greed. When Durin the First found out, he had all the healers executed and the substance banned outside a few select uses. That decree stands today. Misuse carries the death penalty."

Thráin took over, secretly pleased with Ori. "Did you take peyot when you had a vision of me?"

Fræg listened to the deceptive tone. It sounded so calm, more like a father talking to a son. In a way it was soothing and he let his eyes travel upwards to the lovely stone that read his heart. His eyes focused on the hypnotizing stone. "I did, but the vision wasn't wrong. I saw everything clearly."

Thráin let the dwarf continue looking at the stone, which was now dancing with mesmerizing strobes of color that danced brighter and more dangerous than the lights in the northern nighttime skies. "How many visions did you have?"

Gandalf's eyes narrowed. He stood to the side where he had an unobstructed view of all parties. It appeared as if Thráin were putting Fræg under an enchantment and the stone was involved. He wondered how long it took most likely Thrór to stumble onto its powers.

"Three," Fræg volunteered and frowned. He hadn't meant to disclose that much.

"Why did you take the root?" Thráin's soft inflection worked and he wanted to smile, but kept his face devoid of expression as his father taught.

"After the survivors returned on foot, half-starved an rambling wildly of Shriekers who claimed those they took were ta be presented ta the king of Dol Guldur who was a dwarf. I took the root in an attempt ta put ah face ta the dwarven king of Dol Guldur."

"Did you actually see me in your altered state?" Thráin struggled to keep his tone neutral and hypnotic.

Fræg struggled with his exact memories. "I think so," he honestly admitted. "I had ta give the lords an answer an used yer name ta cover my lack of foreknowledge in the matter. Never had I dealt with evil forces an I panicked." He kept his eyes on the ever changing stone and its opalescent shine.

"I have many dwarves wanting me dead and you are GOING to convince them I am the innocent victim of your twisted imagination," Thráin abruptly decreed, ending the interrogation and trial. "You are hereby sentenced to the dungeon. You will be brought out during the day for two hours to mingle, and I suggest you greet everyone in the mountain and everyone coming to the mountain and set the record straight. If the attacks cease for a period of time I have yet to determine, your life will be spared."

"But the dwarfling said the penalty is death? Can't I skip the humiliating confessions and just be put to death? Please, my lord," Fræg pleaded.

"Any attempt to take your own life will result in your family forfeiting theirs as well," Thráin added and motioned for Lötun to remove him.

They watched him led down the long catwalk and Gandalf approached the throne. "Your first official decree from the throne?"

Thráin nodded.

"And how long will you keep him locked up?" Gandalf was curious if he ruled as Thrór would, with a hand of iron.

"For as long as it takes or old age takes either him or me."

Dáin snorted. "If he outlives ye, my Warhammer will personally end his worthless life, one broken bone at ah time."

"Now, Dáin, don't be hasty," Balin objected. "Dwalin would be sore hurt not to do the deed and then there is Thorin Oakenshield who might wish to do the killing."

"We'll have ta draw lots," Dáin grumbled.

* * *

Thorin was still awake when they took flight and had a rush of excitement at soaring with the birds again. They were still floating low above Dale where the people gathered to watch them leave. He saw Bard and waved and the new king returned with his own salute. "It was hospitable of you to crown him king before we left on our eastward trek."

"I've been part of several ceremonies among men as they live so briefly," Erestor retorted. "I live for the day the king is placed on the throne of Gondor again. We never missed a coronation until the kingdom split and then only traveled to the northern kingdom. Elrond never really considered the southern kingdom legitimate." He pointed, "We are nearing the lake."

Thorin twisted his head to look down. "It takes days on foot. I wish it was daylight so I could see Mirkwood when we fly over it."

"You aren't missing much. We are stopping at the Eagle Eyrie and won't leave until daylight. The birds will rest and Gwaihir will select those assigned to help Mithrandir. He hates leaving Dwalin and Óin defenseless should an army or the wizard attack them."

"There were men at the Prancing Pony in Bree coming to collect the bounty on my head when Gandalf sat at my table. The trip to reclaim the mountain with him proved just how handy a wizard can be." As he talked, Thorin reveled in the setting sun and warm orange and pink bands that grew ever smaller.

"You missed my partial story of how Mithrandir came to these lands," Erestor replied. "Maybe someday unfolding events won't interfere with my telling the story in its entirety."

They flew in silence watching the landscape darken when Thorin had a thought. "Can these guys see in the dark?"

Erestor smiled down at the mass of unruly black hair. "Yes, they are special birds, created by the Valar to serve them. The Valar are not omniscient and rely on a host of servants. Mithrandir was such a servant and still is, just in a different capacity for now." He looked down in the almost faded light. "We are flying over Thranduil's halls soon." He pointed down with his right hand.

Thorin caught the flash of Erestor's ring in the last embers of sun and he had to refocus where the elf was pointing. He saw pinpoint lights he knew had to be torches and they resembled a community. "How come he has so many lights after dark? What are they?"

"Horse paddocks mostly. They have an open area on top of the hill that is lit. Elves love the night sky best and dancing under the stars." He felt Thorin relax against him and knew sleep once again claimed the prince. He settled in for the long flight and saluted Eärendil when he saw the ship on the horizon to his left.

* * *

Elrond, from his office balcony, watched Estel ride his new horse around the corral. He felt her move through the room, although she learned to walk as quietly as an elf. Without taking his eyes off Erak training the boy, he stated, "Have a cup. Figwit just refreshed my pot." He heard pouring.

Gilraen moved to his side and sipped the aromatic brew. "He is growing up so fast."

"Every year we will add to his training until age eighteen he will be ready to take his place as a Dúnedain warrior." Elrond paused and looked down at her. "I'm leading the dwarves over the mountains to Erebor. With the large numbers, I feel Estel would be safe and I would like to take him. You're also invited," he hastily added.

"Of course I'll go. I fretted the three days he, Glorfindel and Erak were gone a few days ago." She had a morbid thought and her hands shook slightly and tried to recover before Elrond noticed. He did, but waited. "There won't be another war?"

"Outside this hidden valley, there are no guarantees,…..but you know that," he replied gently.

"A hard lesson we have both learned," she agreed.

Elrond stiffened. "I sense Gwaihir and Landroval approaching fast." Silently, he called, _'Glorfindel, we have Great Eagle company. They just entered my realm.'_

' _On my way,'_ Glorfindel responded and dropped the annoying pen on Erestor's desk atop a cluttered mess he managed to create. Not caring the pen dripped ink that spread into a tiny puddle; he hurried to greet the eagles.

Elrond joined him on the landing; one of the few spacious areas the eagles could land. As they topped the ridge and made their descent, Elrond moaned in frustration, "Erestor has too soft a heart. I bet that is a dwarf who had a mining accident."

Glorfindel laughed, "Or Thorin Oakenshield." His keen eyesight immediately placed the drooping head under a thick fur hide.

"What?" Elrond's head whipped to his golden haired friend and back. He looked carefully as the talon's stretched out to land.

No sooner had Gwaihir halted; Erestor alighted, Thorin in his arms. "He took a turn for the worse when we flew over the mountains." Erestor started for the healing halls as he talked.

Elrond gave a hasty bow to the Great Eagles and called after Erestor, "Have Elberion start and I'll be there shortly." He watched Erestor nod without stopping or turning back. Elrond addressed the waiting eagles. "How did the Great Eagles become entrenched in a battle of powers unseen?"

"Lord Manwë sent us," Landroval stated and stopped.

Elrond knew the Eagles spoke little in the Sindar tongue. "I need to send a letter to King Thráin on Thorin's condition as soon as I know anything. There is sheep on the mountain above us. Can I get you to come back later?" He prayed they didn't have to be elsewhere.

"We come," Gwaihir agreed.

Elrond stepped back to give them room to flap and saw Glorfindel's warriors, Estel, his mother and Erak watching with interest. While he was talking, he watched Glorfindel take two bags Landroval dropped.

Without stopping to satisfy curiosity, Elrond loped effortlessly up the long steps, navy colored robes floating as if trying to keep up.

* * *

"What happened?" Elrond asked, announcing he was in the room. He saw they had Thorin stripped to his woolen long underwear and even the socks were removed. Elberion was cleaning long gashes that looked to be freshly caked with scabs.

"You were part of it," Erestor answered as if Elrond should already know.

Elrond picked up an excoriating brush. "Keep him asleep, Elberion." All watched as the assistant positioned himself at Thorin's head and placed a hand over his forehead. A light glow emanated downward, but left the rest of his hand unaffected.

Glorfindel entered with his customary smile and wrapped Erestor in a tight hug. "You needn't have hurried back. I would have cleaned your desk, but now….," he trailed off with a glint of mischief in his blue eyes.

"I'm sure you are pulling my leg." Erestor returned the hug and then remembered he was reporting and turned back to watch Elrond meticulously remove the scabs and scrub incisions and dead burned skin. "Mithrandir flew from the top of the pass eastward until he found the party of dwarves after the attack. It took several days and allowed infection to set in. The dwarves were not prepared for this type of injury and Óin pulled Mithrandir aside and said he understood if he couldn't make it here in time."

"And why isn't he the one standing before me?" Elrond asked as he used his free hand that glowed trying to stop the flow of blood now pouring from the cuts and seeping through damaged skin. "Another pale of soapy water," he called out. Almost before he got the order issued, a younger healer slipped one bowl off the table and replaced it with warm, clean water and took the bowl with ugly brownish liquid away.

"He is most likely on his way back to Dwalin and Óin. He felt due to their proximity of evil, he was needed to guide them." Are you done with me, Elrond?"

Elrond didn't look up, "Yes, you can rest."

As he left, he saw Glorfindel pick up Thorin's injured foot and examine the scar and heard him say to Elrond, "You need to reduce this scar."

"Why don't you make yourself useful and help me," Elrond snapped.

Erestor shut the door with a smile. "It was good to be home and all was right in his world again.

"Erestor," he turned and caught the boy who jumped on him. "Can I have a ride on the eagles?"

Erestor saw Gilraen approaching more sedately and as he hugged Estel, he gave her a questioning look. When she nodded, he answered. "I will ask if they can take us for a short ride when they return." He sat Estel down and noticed the boy was taller.

* * *

Elrond looked at the much improved chest. "I predict a full recovery without scars. He was delivered in time."

"I'm sure his father would like to hear the good news." Glorfindel reminded him much time had passed.

Elrond looked around for Erestor. Absorbed in healing every inch of the dwarf's burned area, he quite forgot his house seneschal was on the flight of eagles and reported. "Is Erestor leaving with Gwaihir?"

Figwit, who remained in the background, stepped forward. "No my lord; he said his office would not be defiled by Glorfindel again."

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. "I'll go mollify our cantankerous friend if you wish time to write a letter."

Elrond shook his head in disgust. "Are you reading my thoughts again?"

"Yeeeesssss," Glorfindel sang as he departed and missed the smile that followed.

* * *

Erestor harrumphed for the tenth time as he rearranged yet another pile of records.

"I was going to straighten the papers," Glorfindel stated as he threw the door open and a gust of wind from the draft in the hall caused Erestor to grab papers attempting to fly.

"Before or after we all sail?" was the mordant response. "And to think I brought you a gift." He reached into his bag and tossed a wineskin to his friend. On the guise of cleaning the ink off an important report, he covertly watched the warrior.

Glorfindel tipped the skin up and filled his mouth with ruby red wine. He abruptly stopped and held the wineskin like a newborn elfling. Taste buds and saliva told his brain he hadn't had anything this fine since Aman.

Erestor looked at him in amusement. "What? Is the wine poisoned?" He poured a liberal amount in an actual wine goblet and took a large gulp. Glorfindel jerked the glass out of his hand and went all interrogator on his friend. "How did you come by Aman nectar? And more importantly how did you rate something that would grace the table of the Valar?"

Erestor smirked in satisfaction. "It pays to know dwarves in high places. That is payment for my tutoring skills."

"Your skills don't rate this quality," Glorfindel got out before savoring another sip; this one not hastily gulped, but eyes closed in delight.

"Your laziness doesn't rate this wine, but I couldn't help taunting with something I've enjoyed for over a month on a daily basis." It was true, after a fashion. Erestor wasn't Glorfindel and didn't indulge the expensive and rare wine; just allowing one bedtime glass.

Glorfindel eyed the skin. "I think we should save this for Elrond and maybe set a small amount aside for Celeborn. He might as well taste what his wife left behind."

Erestor sat at his desk and grinned openly. "Just when I think you have no redeeming qualities; you surprise me. How about we place it in a secure place for the next time we get a visit from Lothlórien?"

Glorfindel drained the glass and handed the skin to Erestor. "Get this out of my sight; for my generosity has a few minute expiration date."

Erestor laughed as he took it to his personal cupboard. "I promised Estel to try and convince an eagle to give him a ride."

Glorfindel laughed. "Somehow after giving many of Elros Tar-Minyatur's descendant's rides, Gwaihir will not be surprised." As they walked down the steps from the area Elrond set aside for personal offices, Glorfindel again showed his true nature. "I know you don't wish to go up so soon after holding Thorin that many hours, so I will assist young Estel."

"Sometimes I wonder who the biggest child is, and you needn't hide behind a child for an excuse to soar on the wind." He slipped naturally into his chastising mode.

Glorfindel lit from within and laughed. "It is good to have you home. It has been quite dull with you and the twins gone."


	13. 13 Royal Pain Pt 1

A loud blast on the horn above the rampart alerted dwarves visitors were approaching. Dori was in the burgeoning market looking for anything that caught his eye. He didn't know what to spend his fortune on and a life of poverty had him hesitating to part with the gold warming his pocket. He briefly wondered if the feelings would fade in time. It was his turn to monitor the rampart and report anything needing the king's attention. Thráin called upon the remaining Company to take turns, even Ori. He hurried through the repairs and up the steps. He looked over the stone balustrade and saw nothing approaching from either Dale or further away in the direction of the lake. He looked at the trumpeter and the dwarf pointed to the sky. Shifting his gaze up, he spotted them; two Great Eagles. He looked carefully and couldn't see any riders. He turned to a guard, "Run an tell the king eagles are coming."

By the time Thráin ordered the large doors opened and strode outside in air warmed by the south facing stone heated from the sun this clear spring day, the eagles were landing. He bowed before the great birds. "Welcome. Are ye the ones who took my son ta Elrond?"

"Yes; I am Gwaihir and my hatchmate, Landroval."

Landroval lowered his large head and a satchel with a long leather strap slid to the dirt. "Lord Elrond asked us to bring this. It is for you, King under the mountain."

"We fly south and join our young who went with the wizard." With no further communication, they moved back and jumped skyward.

Thráin took the satchel and marched back inside when he realized his self-appointed Durin guards were missing. Many dwarves gathered to watch the eagles and he felt vulnerable with just Dori as his protector. Although the elven sword was strapped to his side, it was no match if attacked by several of the finest warriors Dáin trained, who were mingling with many civilians. A few untrained miners he could handle, but felt the time of age slowing his gait and swing.

Dori also looked for them and his concern grew. He moved to the king's side and tried to look intimidating. "Where are they?" He spoke sideways in Sindarin.

"Don't worry, Dori," he replied in kind. "We are almost to my office."

Safe behind the door Dori closed; they both breathed a sigh of relief. Thráin tossed the satchel on his desk and turned to Dori. "Find out why Lötun, Balin and Dáin ignored the horn." Done with his request, he motioned for the other to leave. Alone, he worked the iron buckles on the flap and pulled several books. Spotting a letter under the flap of the top book, he and sat behind his desk breaking the wax seal with one of the many knives tossed carelessly across the large surface.

 _Greetings King Thráin,  
Erestor explained the situation with your Longbeards coming from the east and you have my support should they be in need. Thorin will receive the utmost care and I thank you for the opportunity to strengthen our friendship and the trust you place in me and shall endeavor not to fail him or you. Thorin's chest is infected, but that is normal for burns. I commend Lord Dwalin and his swift actions in breaking the strangling bands. Those are minor injuries to treat. My goal is to have him return at the head of your dwarves he so long ruled in your stead._

 _I will take several warriors to guide and guard them through the mountains and insure your daughter arrives safely. No matter how old my only daughter grows, I worry when she is beyond walls that protect her. Your grandsons stayed here the winter solstice week and left with my sons and Bilbo Baggins for the Shire and beyond. I haven't heard from them outside a few reports from Galadriel that her mirror divulged.  
I look forward to visiting around mid to late summer. Elrond_

Thráin picked up the first book as a knock rapped on his door. "Enter," he bade and glanced up to see his three protectors bearing guilty expressions. "I'm sure leaving me with just Dori by my side has ah plausible explanation that I will wholeheartedly approve."

"No excuses, Thráin…." Balin started and broke off when the king glared at him.

"It's my fault," Lötun took his turn. "I invited them ta watch ah match involving young Thorin. The lad is excelling an I figured the proud father would want ta watch. With all the shouting, we missed the horn's signal."

"It won't happen again, although I'm sure there were enough loyal guards no harm would befall ye," Dáin concluded. "Tomorrow I'll get Fræg making rounds an telling the truth. Also, if anyone else lifts ah hand against ye, I'll personally kill them as an example."

"Ye really are sore that Dwalin killed yer guard, aren't ye?" Thráin felt his good mood returning. After all no harm befell him and he survived much worse in Dol Guldur.

"The next head rolling better be my kill," Dáin growled.

"Please spare Dori any further panic an have at least one of ye on standby. Now, about our visitors. They were the eagles, coming with messages an books from Elrond for me. I will be occupied reading, making guarding me much easier. I swear I had more freedom in Dol Guldur," he jokingly complained.

"Anything of interest in the messages?" Balin asked.

In response, Thráin handed him the letter and watched them crowd close to read.

"That bugger wrote in Sindarin," Lötun complained, while the others laughed. "Read the blasted message ta me."

Balin complied.

"Would ye three leave," Thráin ordered and picked the book up he set down when they entered.

"I'll be nearby," Balin offered and motioned his compatriots ahead of him. He wanted a private word with Dori and see if anyone looked interested in attacking the king.

Thráin looked at the titles of the three books Elrond was so kind to send. _Warrior Twins; Dwarves and Elves, The Third Age of Elrond and Celebrían._ Wishing to continue with the twins adventures, the first title intrigued him, so he snagged it as he rounded his desk and moved to his comfortable chair in front of the fire. Throwing two pine logs onto the dying embers, he poured ale and opened the book.

 _King Thráin, this book carries on the adventures of my sons and their entry into the wars that plagued us in the Third Age. Mithrandir told me you read the first book in its entirety and expressed interest in additional works written by elves. Lord Elrond, TA 2942_

Thráin opened to the first bit of writing.

 _Prologue_

 _In covering the first millennia of the twins, I divided crucial events of the Third Age into their growing years and the profession they trained for. This book runs simultaneous with their youth for several hundred years, but focuses on their lives as young soldiers and protectors and a few adventures that doesn't include slaying foul beings. I, Erestor, when including my small parts in the book with address myself in the first person. However, many of the stories were brought to me and I will attempt to recreate their narratives._

Thráin turned a page and looked at the index of chapters. One chapter title caught his eye and he turned to it.

 _Royal Pain_

 _Elrond paced his office and then the Last Homely House east of the sea and finally the grounds. Returning from his brisk walk, he sank into his chair at the head of the table in the common dining area. "They are overdue," he raged at Celebrían and me._

" _Just don't yell at them when we first reunite," Celebrían implored with placidity in her voice._

 _Elrond tried to calm his raging fëa. "It's the first time I've sent them alone over the mountains_ _to Thranduil and you know trouble finds them. I know Glorfindel guided them safely to your father's kingdom when they were younger and they've wandered this side of the mountains alone, but they are…"_

" _Our iôns," Celebrían finished and took his hand. "How do you think Gil-Galad felt when you just up and disappeared all those centuries ago?"_

 _That got her desired result and Elrond slumped in his chair with a petulant look on his face while the lady motioned for us to be served. I wisely stayed out of their sniping._

 _Glorfindel chose that moment to join us. "I apologize for my tardiness, Celebrían." He favored her with a smile, which was reciprocated._

 _Elrond cast him a glare and shoved a piece of salad in his mouth to hold back what I'm sure was a frustrating retort._

" _You still thinking of sending scouts before the pass closes?" Glorfindel broke the silence at our table while we satiated our hunger._

 _Setting his fork down, Elrond contemplated an answer. "Maybe I am just being overprotective. After all, they are only six months overdue. I send them on one simple errand; deliver a message to Thranduil and hurry home."_

" _I'm sure Thranduil entreated them to stay the summer," I added helpfully. "Or they may have gone south to their daerodhrons for the winter."_

" _I'm sure Galadriel would have contacted me," Elrond griped. "The fact I haven't heard from her is also troubling. I hope they aren't under attack again."_

 _The trumpeting of the horns had us springing to our feet and sprinting to the balcony. Just cresting the hill were the objects of our worry. As we ran down the long flight of stairs, I thanked Lady Elbereth for their safe return. We watched them lope easily across the bridge and dismount. We waited for an instant until the twins made their choice. They rushed their mother with hugs and kisses._

" _I hope someday they have iôns that act just like them," Elrond muttered and then was engulfed in hugs, which he returned enthusiastically. "I want a detailed report," he ordered._

" _We are starving," Elrohir complained._

" _You just missed supper," Elrond growled._

" _ELROND!" Celebrían's screech had everyone on the landing laughing. She took a hand in each of hers. "You will get sustenance before bathing."_

 _As we followed, we heard Elladan say, "We lost our food at the caverns in High Pass. It's been a week since we ate anything outside berries that are all but gone and we had to dig in snow for those."_

" _Why didn't you stop and hunt?" Glorfindel asked._

 _The twins threw grins and winks over their shoulders and we knew the show was to gain their mother's sympathy, and I must add it worked for she led them directly to the dining hall, motioning for servants to bring copious amounts of food and let us suffer the smell of unwashed bodies._

 _They really were hungry and we let them devour a large amount of elk roast, mashed potatoes and salad before they slowed to talk. "We don't know where to begin, but did bring letters."_

" _I suggest we adjourn to the family wing and you two can bathe and join us," Elrond commanded. He motioned Glorfindel with him and they went to check on the mounts and retrieve their gear from horses already in their stalls with a good rubdown and plenty of corn in the feed trough and hay on side._

 _A short while later, freshly bathed and in clothes that didn't walk by themselves, they settled in front of the fire with wine and we gathered to hear their adventures._

 _Celebrían uttered an audible prayer of thanks for their safe return and then added, "I will have the cooks fix your favorite food tomorrow in honor of your safe return."_

 _Elrond gave her an exacerbated look. "You are aware they played all summer while others worked?"_

" _I am aware I missed them."_

 _I sorted the mail into piles and handed the ones to my lord and lady and Glorfindel, while saving one for me until later._

 _Elrond set his aside. "I have waited long enough, iôns-nín."_

" _There are large amounts of orcs moving on the other side of Thranduil's kingdom. Thranduil thinks they are going to attack Gundabad again and drive the dwarves south to Khazad-dûm. We scouted with Thranduil around the big lake and they are holing up in caves inside the Lonely Mountain," Elladan stated._

 _Only half listening as she opened her first letter, Celebrían let out a squeal of joy. "I don't believe it, Ríllas is with elfling. Just when I gave up on them!"_

 _We sat stunned at the thought Thranduil was going to be a father. He and Glorfindel were the two most unlikely lords I would pick to be responsible fathers. "Does it say when she is due?" I asked._

" _Hmmm, it says in the summer, but not what they are having. Rats, I don't know what to make for them. I'll have Elrond contact Naneth and see if she has more information."_

 _Glorfindel took that moment to laugh at me. "Why don't you spend the winter knitting tiny caps and booties with Celebrían?"_

 _Elrond shook his head in disgust and growled back at his sons, "Why did that take six months?"_

" _Adar, we were asked by Thranduil to help him. He said he is understaffed with natural leaders and is even going to ask Daeradar for the loan of Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin for a few years because he is going to be tied to a crib like you were when we were young. He is going to try and flush them out in spring and we only returned because we knew you and naneth would worry. We would like to return and winter with Thranduil."_

" _That's a wonderful idea," Celebrían announced. "If we hurry we can beat the closing of the pass."_

" _Huh?" Elrond looked at her in confusion. "We and they are staying right here for the winter."_

" _You may stay. I am going east to help Ríllas in her time of need. I'll not leave the tending of Círdan's great niece to Silvan elves." We saw the fire in her eyes and I wasn't sure who she looked like the most at that moment, her mother or father. We knew one thing; when Celebrían said jump, it was a matter of time before Elrond asked how high._

 _He did jump; right off his chair and stalked to the balcony. We followed in anticipation of the conversation he was sure to have with Galadriel._

" _Galadriel," he verbally called and reached out over the great distance, searching for her whereabouts. "Harken unto me."_

' _I'm here, Elrond. Is Celebrían okay? Did your iôns arrive home in one piece after their encounter with the goblins in Goblin-town?'_

 _We all threw looks at the two skulking in the background._

" _They are here and Celebrían is once again displaying her superciliousness to us lesser royals who aren't the second generation from the High King, and she is throwing unreasonable demands around. Has your mirror told you about Ríllas?" He braced for the smack that landed on his shoulder and actually threw his wife a grin._

' _No. Celeborn is fighting alongside King Ciryaher against their old nemesis, the Haradrim. He has been gone for months and took Amroth so he had two kings to jump when he issued an order. He sometimes grumbles you should have taken the mantle of High King so you and Amroth could jump together at his growling. I've been quite busy ruling and haven't had time at my mirror to survey events upon its magical waters.'_

" _That's what you came to Middle Earth for," Elrond reminded her, slightly miffed at her hint that he jumped to Celeborn's commands. "Ruling is quite time consuming when attempting to keep the proletariat from rebelling when forced to take orders from a Ñoldor."_

' _Tell my child I said hello.' She changed the subject before they started yelling at each other. It was obvious he was in a foul mood by his disagreeable tone._

" _She heard through our link, as do Erestor, Glorfindel and the twins and they are all eavesdropping. How is Arwen? Is she behaving and helping you?"_

' _Arwen is a joy and I'm relieved she came back with us on our last visit. My mirror has shown her spending much time here.'_

 _Elrond felt a tapping on his shoulder. "Did you know Ríllas is expecting?"_

' _Why no! That's wonderful.'_

" _No it's not. Your daughter wants to travel to Thranduil's realm for the winter to assist with the birth of another royal pain in my backside. I don't know why royals can't have births like all other elves. I was going to ask you and Celeborn to attend Ríllas, but that is now out." Elrond let frustration creep into his tone. "I will take Celebrían over High Pass."_

' _Thank you, Elrond. I have pressing business right now. Take care.' In a manner so unlike her, she cut the link leaving him to wonder what the emergency was. Little did he know a rider just entered with a message from Ríllas._

 _That settled, we hurried to ready ourselves and Elrond left Eárthellon in charge and took his young son, Figwit, who hadn't traveled much from the hallowed valley. The day before we left a band of Dúnedain arrived and insisted on speaking to Elrond alone. Glorfindel took it in stride, but I was put out they could demand of his valuable time alone on the eve of a trip._

* * *

 _Elrond kept the snow at bay in High Pass and we moved day and night with short stops for the horses until dropping down to camp near the backdoor of the goblins. For the first time in a week, we pitched tents and crawled tired bodies into bedrolls. We were sleeping soundly with several elves per tent, except our lord and lady who slept alone. Glorfindel and the twins bunked with me and the younger ones were on guard duty for four hours from an hour before a new day to three in the morning. They assigned six other guards that were dispersed around the perimeter of our camp. The horn I came to hate during the war once again blasted through the thin walls of our camp, bringing Glorfindel and I to our feet. We both slept in our boots, so with sword in hand, we joined our guards. In the dying fires, we saw the camp overrun with goblins and they were welding clubs ineffectively, but their sheer numbers had us swinging and striking at least three at a time._

 _Some had rudimentary bows and arrows pinged off our advanced armor. Elrond showed up with shirt tails flapping, and taking stock of enemy numbers. "Didn't the boys say they lost their food at Goblin-town? What did they do to make these little buggers send the entire town against us? Get one of my iôns over here." Done shouting instructions, he jumped into the fray, Hadhafang singing in the crisp night air._

 _To my dismay, Celebrían was fighting valiantly, her sword Hadhafang2, already stained red. "Do you know your wife isn't following your orders?" I shouted over the din to Elrond._

" _I'm not surprised. I have no control over her, even when it's in her best interest." While I was fighting and talking to Elrond, Celebrían spotted something that belonged to her beloved sons on the shoulder of a goblin and gave chase._

 _Elladan found us as word spread of our location. He held his left hand up and a lucky strike from an arrow was sticking equally through each side._

" _I am aware goblins sometimes venture out at night to hunt or rob travelers," Elrond began and I ceased my mindless slaughter to guard his back. Of Glorfindel, there was no sign, but I knew his direction by the littered bodies. "What did you and your brother do to invoke the entire population to attack? This isn't their normal pattern." As he spoke, he snapped the shaft and reversed the end with feathers through the hand._

" _We may have entered Goblin-town and killed the king's favorite son," Elladan admitted with a smirk._

" _And so they are attempting to kill my favorite son. Well, they missed," Elrond snarled. "My favorite son is the one who isn't careless enough to get an injury of this nature. You were taught to catch these tiny arrows."_

" _That's what I was trying to do," his firstborn defended his actions. "The arrow was headed towards Naneth…," he paused. "What was she doing out of your tent?"_

" _Being the offspring of Celeborn and Galadriel. Now continue your feeble explanation," his father ordered as deft hands cleaned the wound by pouring water over the hand. His own began to glow as soon as he placed them on each side of his son's._

" _We made a run for it afterwards and in our haste to get away, we lost our food bag with our family crest, so they know who did the deed."_

 _Elrond shook his head in disgust and finished healing the duel wounds. He motioned for a healer's bag and wrapped the hand. Exchanging the bag for Hadhafang, he looked around for his wife. "Elladan, find your mother and brother and they better be together."_

 _Glorfindel's bright appearance accompanied him as he escorted Celebrían to Elrond before Elladan or I took our search beyond firelight. "Did you lose something, Elrond?" he asked cheerfully, while Celebrían looked annoyed._

" _At least I got it back," she announced, as if that excused her actions._

" _What did you retrieve from those filthy things?" Elrond demanded._

 _She proudly held up a bag marked with the seal of the House of Elrond. "When our iôns fled the caves, they lost their food bag. Although empty, it is intact."_

" _You risked your life for a bag I could have made in an afternoon?" Elrond thundered as he ripped it from her grasp. In distaste, he held it to his sensitive nose. With a disdainful flick of his wrist, it was tossed into the fire. "We will replace it," he spoke in a kinder tone._

 _We saw the regret fill her eyes that she tracked down and slew the fleeing goblin over something so trivial. Before anyone could offer a word of comfort, Elrond moved and she was in his arms. "I appreciate your effort, meleth-nín. I know you were the one to paint the engravings. We will together make a better one for them."_

 _The battle was winding down and goblins fleeing back into their hole. Glorfindel captured one and told it all the bodies better be gone when next we traveled this way._

 _Arwen woke with a scream on her lips. Before she fully became aware of her surroundings high in her chambers of the tallest Mallorn, her grandmother was at her side, sinking onto the soft mattress and taking her hand._

" _You had a nightmare, pen neth. Tell me all you saw."_

 _In the full light Ithil bathed the room with, Arwen, with tears creasing the outside of her blue eyes, disclosed her dream. "It was as if a great distance away and Naneth was under attack. I didn't see who or what, but it was awful." She allowed tears to fall and felt the comforting arms of her grandmother._

 _Servants invaded at the anguished fëa and their personal guard, Emoth, who Celeborn left behind with instructions to guard his beloved elleth's, was welding a sword at shadows in the bedchamber._

 _Galadriel motioned for them to leave and addressed the reluctant Emoth. "It was a nightmare, nothing more. I will sit with her."_

" _My Lord Celeborn?" Emoth questioned with fear in his tone and dread in his eyes._

" _No. My mirror tells me of a great victory over the Haradrim and he is celebrating in Gondor. Also, a messenger arrived from the Halls of Thranduil and confirmed that Ríllas is with elfling." A wave of her hand dismissed Emoth and she focused on her granddaughter. "I saw your parents fight goblins and descending this side of the mountains through High Pass. I am writing letters first thing in the morning for the messenger, as he told me his orders are to return immediately."_

" _I want to see naneth," Arwen pleaded. "I'll ride north with the messenger."_

" _Not without chaperones. What did I just say?" Galadriel lamented at her own caution she normally would throw to the wind. "What I mean is wait for Daeradar and we will all go north in the spring. Winter is driving down the mountains and I don't wish to camp in the cold."_

" _I've never traveled in the winter for a hundred years. It's always the same, wait until warmer temperatures. I've made up my mind. I'm going with the messenger unless you place me under guard."_

 _Galadriel sat back and studied her dark haired granddaughter. "Very well, I'll leave Emoth to face Celeborn and we will pack and go together tomorrow." She smiled at the relieved look she got in return. After all, they would be far away when Celeborn's anger was rent upon Caras Galadhon._

* * *

 _A steady freezing rain greeted us when we reached the bridge at Old Ford. Elrond looked at the slippery stone and called for the camp to be set up. Since this was a crossing for all races, fire pits were established for centuries along with stone buildings one could take refuge from the cold. While our servants chased rats from discarded sacks that once held grain, Glorfindel set the guard. "I'm sure the bear prowls, so be wary, but don't kill Beorn."_

 _Elrond looked inside a stone hut with a fireplace at one end. "We'll take this one. Boys, bring enough firewood for the night."_

 _I joined the twins and we chopped two downed pine trees into chunks and soon had a roaring fire inside and warmth replaced the damp chill. Celebrían spread our bedrolls and I saw her place one beside another and knew she staked those for her and Elrond. We settled around the fire with warm plates of food; the first hot meal since leaving Imladris. As much as I like Lembas, the venison stew warmed my aching fëa. Although elves are naturally resistant to cold and heat, days upon end suffering over a mountain in early winter wearied all of us and a good night's sleep was fast approaching. The blast of a horn announcing more arrivals had us on our feet reaching for weapons._

 _Elrond turned to Celebrían, "For once do as I say. Stay here. We don't know who approaches." Not waiting to see if she followed, he hurried after us._

 _In the last scintilla of light through the midst, we saw horses approaching from the south and our sentry called, "DARO."_

 _The horses stopped and then approached cautiously. There was audible relief when the familiar cloaks of Lórien elves became more than a vapor our eyes couldn't see._

 _I was shocked when Arwen slid from a horse and cried, "Adar."_

 _I could see disbelief on Elrond's face as he gathered her close._

 _Celebrían, feeling her mother's fëa nearby, pushed through the greeting elves and cried, "Naneth!" She gave her mother a tight hug and turned to her daughter and repeated the bone crushing gesture. "I thought you were waiting for Adar?" she asked her mother. She held up her hand, "Come, we have food and a warm place." Glorfindel, accompanied with his normal smile, motioned me back into the warm structure and I happily let him settle our two groups down for the night together._

 _Arwen concluded her story, while sitting by her mother. I could see Elrond was troubled so I quickly offered an explanation of it must have been our encounter with the goblins and dreams were fickle mistresses. I could see Elrond didn't believe me for a moment, but flashed me a smile for trying to comfort Arwen and allay her fears._

" _Now that we are all headed the same place, you will be safer with our larger group….and I'll deal with you later, Galadriel," Elrond promised._

" _Elrond, I've been traipsing these lands long before you were hatched," Galadriel retorted and once again I had a front row seat to a showdown of power._

" _But you didn't take my only daughter with you on those harebrained trips. I'm sure Celeborn would have allowed his calmer thinking to prevail, had you bothered to wait for him."_

 _Galadriel calmly took a bite of stew, as if that were foremost on her schedule. "If you don't like us here, I'm sure my group can ride on tonight."_

" _As long as my daughter stays, you can swim the river for all I care," Elrond peevishly groused._

" _Elrond, you have been in a horrible mood on what should be a special occasion," Celebrían angrily countered for her mother. "I don't care who went where without proper guards. All that matters is they found us and I'm sure they rode hard to reach us before we entered the forest."_

 _Elrond closed his eyes for a moment and reached for her hand. "You are correct, as usual, meleth-nín. You know how I hate what I cannot control and that would be my children, my wife and my mother-in-law." He leaned over and kissed her. "I promise to be happy and dance every dance with only you."_

" _You always say that when trying to worm back into my good graces," Celebrían murmured against his mouth and they shared a deeper kiss._

 _Glorfindel and the twins pushed the skin of the recently killed deer aside and entered. We hung the hide over the entrance for a measure of privacy and slow chill's unwelcome entrance during the night. The twins greeted their grandmother and turned to their sister._

" _Are you going so you can play nursemaid to the royal brat?" Elrohir teased._

" _Careful, Arwen, you will take one look at a baby and force Haldir into wedlock just to have one of your own," Elladan added._

" _Enough of that kind of talk; Arwen is too young. I don't know why I promised your naneth I would be happy; with you two idiots placing ideas into your sister's head she is way too young to entertain?" He flashed a sudden grin in Celebrían's direction. "We could have another if Arwen wants practice."_

 _I laughed aloud at the thought Elrond mentally parted to us of twin terrors._

" _I love the ones we have, but two more like them would make me sail and leave you alone raising them," Celebrían warned._

 _Elrond didn't reply, but by Galadriel's smile in his direction, we knew she found something amusing in his mind._

* * *

 _At dawn we were saddled and just extinguishing the fires when the horn sounded again signaling approach of another group; this time from the north._

" _This is getting ridiculous," Elrond commented and swung on his horse to meet the party away from his female family members, should they prove to be orcs. We hastened to join him because only Glorfindel moved with sufficient speed to keep pace with Elrond._

 _In the early morning rising mist off the river trudged a bedraggled assembly of dwarves. They were wearing the clothes on their backs and looked to be starved._

 _Elrond immediately took charge. "Get those fires relit and make food." He swung off his steed and approached the leaders who were obvious warriors, and although still approaching had weapons at the ready. Elrond switched to Khuzdul. "Peace. I am Lord Elrond of Rivendell. We are friends of Durin V and offer assistance and food."_

 _The dwarf in charge gave us a typical dwarven glare and marched to Elrond, craning his neck upwards. "I am Lord Veig of Gundabad. Orcs came with dragons an drove us from our stronghold. We lost over half our clan, an have no choice but ta push on ta Khazad-dûm an on behalf of my dwarves, thank ye for feeding us." He turned to his warriors. "Pass the word that the elves will feed us." We heard mutterings of relief and someone called out to feed the dwarflings first in case there wasn't enough for all._

 _Upon hearing that, Elrond motioned for Elladan and Elrohir to join him. "Hunt for these souls. Guide them south to the Halls of Durin and ride to your daeradar, who is still south of the Wold, and tell him where his wayward wife went. I'm sure he will want to rush to her side. If not, you may spend the winter with him enjoying a peaceful time without a nagging elleth around."_

' _I heard that, Elrond,' Galadriel spoke into his mind and didn't shield from those of us nearby. She joined us at our return to camp. "I have ordered the Galadhrim back also. They will assist and return home."_

" _In that case, the boys can come with us and see the new elfling," Elrond teased._

 _We watched them look at each other and turn as one on their father. "You think we have interest in a baby? We are here on the off chance our services as warriors may be required," Elladan replied first._

" _In a hundred or two years, we'll think about showing interest in this elfling unless it's an elleth, then two thousand is closer to our timetable," Elrohir concluded so fast it sounded as if one spoke both sentences. The dwarves looked at them in amazement for they sounded and looked exactly alike, but we were used to it._

" _I thought maybe we could spend some time together," Elrond offered._

" _I'm sure you would rather sit with Thranduil and talk existentially on the joys of fatherhood," Elrohir countered._

" _I can't think of any off the top of my head," Elrond bantered back. He motioned for them to say farewell to their mother and turned back to Lord Veig. "Forgive us talking in Sindarin. I was instructing my sons to help you. The warriors of the Galadhrim will also assist. Are you being pursued?"_

 _Veig shook his head. "I think not. We haven't stopped walking for days for more than half an hour at ah time an are exhausted."_

" _Rest here for a few days and let my people take care of you." Elrond motioned for food be given the lord. He was impressed when Veig shook his head. "Eat, we have plenty. Your dwarflings won't have another hungry night." Elrond motioned for us to mount and led us across the bridge._

 _Figwit quickly mounted his horse and was last from the area and we heard many dwarves call their thanks to him for his effort to provide food and comfort. He even gave his blanket to a dwarrowdams with an infant in her arms._


	14. 14 Royal Pain Pt 2

_Crossing the bridge we were soon out of sight, leaving the twins in charge. A hundred miles north at a place called Forest Gate; we turned onto the Old Dwarven Path. It is speculated the track and Old Forest Road to the south were formed by dwarves in the First Age. We hadn't gone more than thirty miles when Thranduil's Silvan elves shot an arrow across our path._

 _With a smile, Glorfindel, insouciance in attitude and speed almost unseen by eye, knocked and fired back. Immediately the elves were bowing before us and handing Glorfindel his arrow back._

" _My lords, we didn't expect your honored presence this late in the year. King Thranduil ordered the borders closed with orcs on the move."_

" _No harm done," Elrond assured him. "We assume elves are not blocked?"_

" _Just dwarves," the sentry replied. "Our king thinks they should be eaten by orcs."_

" _I'm sure Thranduil was exaggerating," Elrond snapped and pushed past the sentry with his steed and we were on our way once more. At the rapid pace Elrond set, we reached the next set of guards in two days. We stopped across the bridge from Thranduil's Halls and watched as the massive doors swung towards us with the king standing in the middle of his archway. Elrond rode across the bridge first and we followed single file. Our lord jumped off his horse and bowed his head respectfully while Thranduil gave a mock motion for Elrond to depart and then pulled him in for a hug._

" _I trust this visit isn't because your iôns failed to reach your haven?" Thranduil asked first and then noticed Galadriel dismounting. "Oh, it's because they did arrive home and you are descending on my keep in your husbandly duties of escorting your ladies to my wife." His condescending tone caused Glorfindel to burst out laughing._

" _Thranduil, I wouldn't be here if my wife isn't boss," Elrond roared back with laughter in his tone. "You know how much I care about you producing another pain in my backside. But you are correct; I am providing escort service only. I have to return."_

" _WHAT?" Celebrían snapped in indignation. "You never told me that. I expect your presence to comfort me this winter and I figured we could have some intimate moments away from your duties. Besides the pass is likely closed."_

 _When she finally ran out of excused, Elrond patiently replied. "We will talk later and besides our iôns will be here in the spring to guide you home. I sent a message to Celeborn through them to come and get you as far as the pass when he retrieves his runaway wife."_

 _Galadriel interceded as she tapped her daughter's thigh for her to dismount. "We will be fine, Elrond." She hugged Thranduil warmly. "My mirror was silent on this elfling. I hope it does not bode ill."_

 _Thranduil quickly shook his head. "Ríllas has actually done all I've asked of her. I'm sure it's a first. We want a healthy elfling." He led the way into his caverns while his servants and ours took care of the horses and unpacked many gifts and much luggage._

* * *

 _Thranduil led us directly to Ríllas and after greeting the queen, we ellon departed with Thranduil to allow the ladies to gather details that I'm sure would have our ears burning and faces red. Later, I pressed Celebrían for details for a book about the leading elleth in Middle Earth. For now, we visited with Thranduil for a few days until Elrond got anxious to leave._

" _I have to get back. Why didn't you get her pregnant back when we all were in Minis Tirith?"_

 _Thranduil surprisingly answered maturely, "Because I didn't want to spoil a wonderful romance by having to cut it short and return here with her carrying my child; that's why. I will send word if I add a prince or princess. I plan on using the eagles for my news and hope an elfling will place me in better standing with Círdan."_

" _Nothing will do that," Elrond joked. He looked at Glorfindel. "Are you staying here for the winter and drinking Thranduil dry?"_

" _That was my plan until you decided to tempt fate by traipsing back by Goblin-town. They will be gathering their dead you know? They were pretty mad."_

 _"Good, maybe we can kill a few more." Elrond looked at me, "Well? Are you coming with the warriors or knitting baby blankets with the elleth?"_

 _Ignoring Glorfindel's denigrating laugh, I straightened to my full height, which was identical to Elrond's. "I shall educate Ríllas on my vast experience in dealing with the spawn of kings, acknowledged or otherwise."_

 _Elrond grinned at me and departed to spend the rest of the day with his wife, for he was leaving on the morrow._

* * *

 _Elladan watched the crags and rivulets for movement. Sheep grazed on windblown patches of dirt, but of fell things, there was no sign. They were almost to Dimrill Dale and the last night under the stars with their charges. He made a decision. "El, take Lord Veig to King Durin and have him explain they are being descended upon."_

 _Dwarves, with regular food to regain strength, quickly gathered sticks for fires. Nights were warmer close to the Golden Wood, but a warm soup from the traveling kitchen that traveled with the Galadhrim would keep stomachs from rumbling._

 _Elladan set the guard and felt in his fëa they were being stalked. Walking among the fires on this chilly night, he kept his gaze on shapes that grew ever ominous with each passing night hour. So far squat outlines were brush that still sported leaves displaying their last vestige of color. The glow of yellow eyes reflecting off a camp fire had him shouting, hoping his presence instilled fear. Fangs flashed as six wolves braved fire and openness in hopes of catching an easy meal of dwarf flesh. Three fell instantly to Elladan's sword and the Galadhrim easily slew the rest. "I knew we were being watched," Elladan told a March Warden named Ceithen, who was in charge of the Galadhrim this trip._

" _I felt it also," Ceithen confirmed. "There are more. I wonder if Wargs are also close?"_

" _Probably. They often hunt in joint packs," Elladan agreed. "Split half for night watch. Which shift do you prefer?" So far, the twins took turns supervising the two night shifts._

" _I'll take first," Ceithen stated._

 _Elladan checked his horse one last time before lying down to rest for a few hours and ordered the fires be kept roaring all night. Morning had him watching as night faded away and he stirred from his post. His grey Galadhrim cloak kept him warm and he blended into the shrubs he chose as his location. His keen ears listened for the breaking of a twig or growl, but the only noise was the symphony of songbirds greeting the morning sunrise._

 _Before they were done with a meal before breaking camp, Elrohir rode in with a hundred dwarven warriors mounted on rams with full curl._

 _The leader informed Elladan they would take charge of the Longbeard clan and escort them to the Halls of Durin. Thus freed, the twins turned south for the short ride into the Golden Wood. With the Galadhrim in tow, nobody challenged them and night found them nearing Caras Galadhon._

" _I hope Daeradar has returned," Elrohir spoke for the first time in hours._

" _I don't care if he has. I am availing myself of his bathhouse," his brother retorted as they raced around the tall walls to the south entrance._

 _They were disappointed to learn their beloved Daeradar hadn't yet returned from his war and more so to have missed fighting beside him. Two days to rest their bodies and horses and they rode south into the Wold, intent on traveling as far as Minas Tirith if need be. Although their grandmother assured them fighting was done, they secretly hoped to encounter a band of Haradrim. They never fought them as adults and the fleeting fight their father engaged in when they were mere elflings of fifteen left them yearning to experience hand to hand combat against the wild men of Umbar._

 _A week's ride had them at the crossing where the Anduin broke into several channels and the last ford was against steep banks, with a cut made by men in an age past wide enough for wagons. 'Look,' Elrohir spoke into his brother's mind and pointed. With their superior eyesight, they caught the banner on top of a distant hill heading directly towards them. 'If we hurry, we can surprise him.'_

' _I am still trying to catch our dear old daeradar with his guard down and now is our chance. He doesn't have a clue we are anyplace near here,' Elladan responded with glee and they splashed across the eight channels and dismounted. Scurrying up the draw, they each took a side with a rock outcrop hanging above the trail. The plan they mentally discussed involved both jumping at once and one taking their Daeradar off his horse and the other taking his head March Warden, Verthenwë, who would no doubt be riding beside his lord._

* * *

 _Celeborn, weary from the several month long battle; wanted home, a bath, his best wine and wife, and not in that order. Long separations made him long for her presence and he admitted to himself he missed her. He knew his married warriors were likewise yearning to return and bask in their loved ones arms. He decided the first night was always the best and would make a memory they would revisit. His scout entered the draw, as was customary when they could be attacked. He didn't expect a report of more than fish jumping in the river so was quite surprised when his scout promptly returned and made haste to his side. Celeborn raised his hand and his army stopped and not a sound could be heard in the ranks. They wanted the mental report to be passed intact along the long line of mounted warriors. Celeborn noticed his seasoned scout was grinning broadly._

' _My lord, your daeriôns are lying in wait at the outcrop,' the scout reported mentally._

 _Celeborn turned an amused expression to Verthenwë. 'They must be on their way to greet me. Let's not keep them waiting.' He motioned and continued forward while quiet mirth rippled through the lines as the message was passed quietly along._

 _The twins tensed and when their targets were beneath their location; like a spring breaking, as one rose from their prone positions, planted their booted feet and dove headfirst at the leaders._

 _Hard ground broke their falls and they rolled and sat up, looking up at laughing elves on horseback._

" _How did you do that?" Elrohir spat out in disgust as he glared at his grandfather._

" _I projected a false location to your fëas, my young, dumb daeriôns."_

 _Elladan rose, brushing himself off, "You need to teach us that trick so next time we won't fail."_

 _Celeborn swung down and gathered them to him. "In time I will. Now, what brings you south?" He looked back at his tired warriors. "Wait until we camp tonight. Now, run and fetch your horses…if you still have any." He watched fondly as Elrond's pride and joy sprinted down the trail ahead of them and with jumps landed on their mounts that were grazing at river's edge._

 _The leaders who traveled with Lord Celeborn whenever he went to war, gathered around a roaring fire and watched their lord seated between the twins. Quickly they filled everyone in and news traveled throughout camp and songs for elflings filled their ears._

" _I will take a rest in the city and then travel north to drag my strong-willed wife home," Celeborn stated when the boys were done._

 _"El and I wanted to winter with Thranduil so we would be close if the orcs try and take Thranduil's kingdom. They might know he is preoccupied and choose this time to attack," Elladan happily replied._

 _Celeborn listened to the excited lilt of his eldest grandson and agreed. "We will spend the winter with Thranduil."_

* * *

 _Thranduil escorted Ríllas this cold morning to his private dining table. He looked around at those that dined daily with him. "In spite of my teasing, I am glad you are here." Seating his wife, he sat at the head of the table and addressed Celebrían. "I would have liked Elrond to deliver."_

" _Before he left, he informed me why the Dúnedain wished a private word. They arrived the day before we left so I didn't see them, but Elrond spoke with the captain."_

 _I was taken back with surprise. "Celebrían, how come I wasn't informed Elrond confided in you? Does Glorfindel know what they wanted?"_

 _She graciously reached over and patted my forearm fondly. "Erestor, Elrond wished you to have a relaxing winter here and not worry. He told me a private word included Glorfindel, and Elrond asked him not to say anything. Mallor, king of Arthedain, sent word that orcs were raiding south from the Angmar Mountains and they captured a band who were heading to attack Imladris because its whereabouts was tortured out of a captured man. Mallor knew who the man was and killed everyone in that band, but he didn't capture them all and a few escaped and Elrond is on edge. He really didn't want to come, but chose to bring me to safety if Imladris comes under siege, as it did in the second age."_

 _Ríllas spoke sentiments I agreed with. "I am relieved you are here and your iôns safe in the southland. That certainly explains why Elrond was so edgy during his short visit?"_

 _We watched as Thranduil took his wife's hand in comfort, "And I am happy to host the ladies and could quite become accustomed to several elleth of rank surrounding me at all times. My dear," he kissed the back of the hand he held, "you may proceed to give me many daughters."_

 _Her eyes sparkled, "The healers tell me next week we will know what is keeping me up at night; your iell or your iôn."_

 _Thranduil grinned like an elfling with a new toy and turned his attention back to Celebrían, "Please continue and we are sorry for getting sidetracked."_

 _Celebrían smiled at the couple, "You may sidetrack my morbid thoughts anytime, and I for one am helping with your announcement party." She looked across the table at her mother. "Did your mirror not tell of the attacks?"_

 _Galadriel serenely shook her head. "In the affairs of men, I am shown very little; just a face of the king of Gondor who will unite north and south."_

" _How do you know it's Gondor?" Thranduil beat me to the question._

" _Because he is standing in front of the white tree and it is blooming again, but he is dressed as a Dúnedain. That is important, although no timeframe has surfaced so it remains in a distant time."_

" _What is Elrond's plan?" I turned the topic back to what was foremost on my mind and by Thranduil's smile in my direction, his also._

 _"Go home and protect his community," Celebrían responded and changed the subject back to the party, so we followed suit._

 _In the chambers provided for Elrond's immediate family and closest advisors, I accosted Celebrían. "Why was I not told the reason Elrond wanted to leave?"_

" _Elrond wanted you to guard me lest our wayward iôns hear of a possible battle brewing at Imladris. You know all of Thranduil's warriors and the few guards Elrond left here won't be able to stop them from crossing the mountain in winter."_

" _Maybe Celeborn will keep them in Caras Galadhon for the winter. I don't fancy he cares about elflings either."_

* * *

 _The morning Thranduil found his elfling's gender was one I will always remember. He ran through the halls shouting for joy, "It's an iôn. I'm having an iôn and heir."_

 _The party was joined by the entire community, outside a handful of guards, when talking suddenly ceased and the king and queen looked to see what or who invaded their sanctuary uninvited._

 _Celebrían and I were dancing when the music stopped and our feet followed. I looked for danger and cursed not wearing my sword. Stairs wound upwards from around many roots and suddenly I pointed up. At the top of a flight of stairs stood Celeborn, our elflings and a few Sindar lords who always travel with the great lord._

" _Don't worry, Thranduil, I felt his approach and bribed the guards to let them in," Galadriel's strong voice rang out as she ascended the steps and met Celeborn halfway. We watched the reunion and his hand extended and stopped, waiting for her to meet him halfway. As soon as her fingers caressed his and settled in her familiar place, they moved as one down the steps to a waiting Thranduil._

" _I was left with the impression I wouldn't see you until warmer weather," Thranduil stated after a hug to his kin._

 _Celeborn shrugged, "I am weary."_

" _I feel your fatigue," Galadriel confirmed. "Come, sit beside me and celebrate Thranduil's good news."_

" _I got the message," Celeborn retorted._

" _But not that I'm adding a prince to help rule my realm," Thranduil boasted and saw Celeborn grin._

" _And I arrived in time to help celebrate." They gave a warriors handclasp and moved to the wine together leaving me beside Galadriel, who was looking amused that her tired husband would dump her for a private celebration with the father to be._

" _I see the twins are properly greeting their naneth," I commented and Galadriel dragged her eyes from examining her husband. "With them safely here, I can take a rare brake from watching the waters."_

" _Just out of curiosity, which waters give divination for you?" I asked._

" _I use Thranduil's reflecting pool. It is soothing and I can keep an eye on the world. I knew my husband was coming when he entered the woods and hoped he wouldn't stop until he joined us. I reached for him, but he was too tired to respond so I let him make his way to me."_

" _And you drew his weary fëa and not all of this?" I swept my hand for emphasis at the large gathering._

" _Celeborn doesn't care about parties or babies. No, I am his weakness. I always have been from the moment our eyes first met."_

 _As if sensing we were talking about him, Celeborn's head turned and I saw his eyes for her alone and knew she spoke truth._

* * *

 _We patrolled for Thranduil so he didn't miss one moment of his wife growing large while she toted his son inside her. Finally, we ventured to the Lonely Mountain and it was deserted. Celeborn turned us back to Thranduil's Halls and we rode without stopping._

 _In front of Thranduil, he reported. "It was this bunch that took Gundabad. The mountain should be inhabited by dwarves and Elrond needs to finalize plans with Durin V to take ownership of the gold mines he and you developed. The dwarves are the better miners and we have all the wealth we can spend in two ages of this world and nothing outside Mithril to spend it on."_

" _I will send a letter to Durin when my iôn is born of your suggestion," Thranduil agreed._

" _If I know the dwarf, he will want to come himself and inspect your work. Galadriel's mirror saw a thriving community of dwarves in that mountain and two communities of men to support them. It won't happen for several hundred years because Durin has to die. My wife saw another dwarf on the throne before the move and Durin V is young and will rule for at least three hundred years."_

 _Thranduil's eyes went wide. "The baby," he cried and raced through underground halls with Celeborn and I on his heels. He didn't stop until in his bedchamber, but Celeborn and I stayed in his family chamber where several of Thranduil's lords were amassing. Soon we had glasses in hand and the toasting began long before the young prince made his appearance to Middle Earth._

 _Hours passed before Thranduil carried a bundle in his arms and joined us. At his side ready to take the squirming bundle was Celebrían. Smiling from ear to ear, Thranduil held him out for us to see. "My son, Legolas, Prince of the Sindar and Silvan elves, Lord of the Rhovanion and Heir to my throne."_

 _Celeborn expertly took the elfling and studied him closely. "I see features of Ríllas' grandfather, the High Elf, Lenwë."_

 _Thranduil nodded. "I was young when Lord Lenwë was killed in the War of the Wrath, but remember him when I went with my adar to the meetings of elves who led the war. I never dreamed I would someday wed his granddaughter. He was born on the march from Cuiviénen and son of two awakening elves."_

" _I remember him as well," Celeborn agreed. "He was of course at my wedding and we hunted for the feast together."_

 _Thranduil took his son back and looked down at him. "Galadriel tells me she foresaw greatness for him, but didn't give any details. Of course any iôn of mine will be great." With his natural pompousness in place, Thranduil returned to the bedchamber while Celebrían remained with us._

" _I was worried Arwen would start to think of finding an ellon and having one, but I needn't worry. She almost passed out every time Ríllas screamed. Elrond will be delighted with my news."_

" _How is Ríllas?" I inquired, ashamed I forgot to promptly ask Thranduil, and it was completely unlike me to forget details._

" _Resting and free of pain. Thranduil took the birth quite well, but did stay out of her reach. Only once did her hand find a knife by the bed and he did a remarkable job in catching it before it stabbed his eye out." She looked around. Where are my babies? I wish to show them their new future companion, Legolas."_

 _Celeborn and I looked surprised at each other. It was he who supplied an answer. "I doubt they will go any place near him after what you did to them when Arwen was a baby. They were telling stories when we patrolled and decided bonding with young Legolas isn't on their list. Don't expect to see them for weeks or until we leave."_

" _I doubt Thranduil will allow them to touch Legolas anyway." With that, she hurried back to assist in tending the new mother. We didn't see anyone for a week and dined away from the family home to give the parents rest. When I say we; I mean all ellon. Of the elleth, we hardly saw them and I'm sure Ríllas had the best care._

 _Soon it was time to leave and I got my chance to hold the baby for the first time. I looked down at him in my arms and quoted, "Your cousin Elrond says you are a royal pain. Prove him wrong and don't act like your adar."_

 _Thranduil snatch him back as everyone laughed and I quickly mounted. Soon we were flying down the well-used road and back to our lives. My thoughts turned to matters at hand and I was most anxious to return to Imladris and sent a prayer west that we had a home to return to. On the way I felt it safe to tell the twins of the possible danger their father faced alone that winter._

" _You know, Erestor, for withholding that information….," Elladan began, "you will be pranked until you die of old age," Elrohir finished the sentence._

 _I smiled my acceptance at their challenge._

Thráin looked at yet a different bookmark and knew this one wasn't made by Arwen for another name was inscribed, but it was still very pretty. He marked the spot, but decided to start at the beginning now that he knew the circumstances of the princeling's birth. He stood and stretched, his stomach rumbling and just then the dinner bell sounded and he opened his office door after strapping on his sword. A guard was waiting to be his escort and he wondered at his lords and their apparent forgotten promises.

Balin ran around a corner. "I am here; was just in a meeting with miners and ran out on them." As they walked to the private Durin dining room, Balin asked, "Is the next book just as good as the one you just finished?"

"It looks like it might have some interesting stories an ah few surprises, like the first chapter I chose had ah short bit of when Lord Veig abandoned Gundabad. It was tied ta ah story about Legolas' birth. I didn't remember the two events being at the same time. Of course it was from Erestor's viewpoint an their travels over the mountain, so I wasn't forced ta read about the baby kicking the mother every other sentence."

Balin laughed, "They sure do that, don't they?"


	15. 15 Fifteen

Dáin flipped onto his back, sleep just out of reach, although the bed was comfortable with its firm mattress and normally lulled him to sleep after a busy day which included sparing for hours. The previous two days were sinking in. One he was going to be a father again and two; that idiot Fræg was really in the dungeon. Dáin was given charge of him and it took all his willpower not to spare them the trouble and end his miserable life. He decided to personally escort Fræg to the other prisoners first so he could determine if they might be released and banished or just executed. It never crossed his mind to let them remain and he wasn't allowing them to go anywhere near any Longbeard clan if they departed. No, he decided, they could return to Jötunheim.

"Is my expecting the reason you roll over every two minutes?" Azie asked as her hand found his bare stomach and she allowed fingers to slip through soft hairs on their journey to his chest.

Dáin laid his large, battle toughened hand over her soft, delicate one, holding it in place. "Ye almost sent me ta Mandos' Halls with yer announcement. I think ah baby will be good for Durin's an will give the returning dams ah project."

"Hmmm, I am thinking that also. You aren't awake thinking of dams. I've yet to see you get through a conversation involving them."

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. "I was planning Fræg's itinerary in my head. Starting in the morning, I'll personally take him to the ones incarcerated because of him. If he can convince that lot; I will allow him topside two hours ah day as Thráin ordered."

Azie remembered something to tell him. "Young Thorin has talked of nothing but his first time in the Durin lineup at the throne. I always imagined what it would be like and now to see my husband and son in that line makes me proud I was chosen to marry you. I look forward to seeing you again in that line when Thorin weds. Will there be a king's decree when all Durin's marry here?"

"Maybe." Dáin felt himself start to drift off…..finally. "Night," he murmured.

* * *

"I tell you, Master Óin, my powers are limited and I cannot control the weather or stop up rivers. You need a more powerful wizard for that," Gandalf snapped, as once again the irritating dwarf was audibly wondering why he couldn't part the river and allow them to cross on dry land. "Valtron is Landroval's eldest son and was the one who carried Bilbo to safety." He turned his attention back to the Great Eagle standing before him. "Carry a wagon with dwarves across and have them unload. Use the wagons loaded with dwarves to ferry everyone over," Gandalf instructed Valtron. "Don't drop the livestock, please."

Sun was setting when the last of the wagons gently settled on the far side of the river and camp was already made and food bubbling in pots when Gandalf caught a ride on the back of an eagle. In the distance he saw two more approaching and had a good idea who they were, so waited a ways from camp to allow Gwaihir and Landroval space to land. "My friends, once again your service to Middle Earth surpasses the simple tasks Lord Manwë charged you with. We are humbly in your debt. Tell us, how does Thorin fare?" While he was greeting the leaders, Óin, Dwalin, Nori, Bifur and Bofur crowded behind the wizard, eager for news. Other leaders also drew near, but not too close. They were in awe of the large talons that could easily grasp their wagons from side to side.

"He is with Elrond," Gwaihir replied. "Do you still need our help?"

"Tell me, did you spot orcs or flying foul things between here and the mountain?" Gandalf asked in lieu of a straight answer.

The great head bobbed up and down. "Scattered orcs on foot and moving towards Mordor. You will find them."

"You didn't see any Nazgûl?" Gandalf pressed.

"No."

"We can handle a few orcs." He motioned everyone back so the birds could leave and watched until they were lost in the brightness of the setting sun.

* * *

Thorin woke and instinctively knew it was night. Immediately an elf was at his side and he figured they were watching his eyes. He couldn't hold back the groan with his chest feeling excoriated with a grinding stone. As soon as he ended his outburst of pain, his head was lifted and a cup pressed to his parched lips. Drinking deeply, he tasted cold water with a hint of herbs. The pain subsided to a bearable throb and he relaxed his head back onto the soft pillow. "How long have I been here?"

"Five days, Prince Thorin," a soft voice kindly answered.

"Last time I was under the care of elves, I managed to slip your chains in only two days."

The healer allowed a glimmer of smile to creep across his face. "And paid the price."

"I was in my own dwarven bed and not an elven cot, so the setback was worth slipping out and whistling for a ram."

"Just how did you get past our guards and healers?" the healer asked. He was on duty in the tent assigned to dwarves and didn't hear or see the dwarf leave.

"I lifted the edge in the back and slid out," Thorin replied in a satisfied tone.

"I will inform Lord Erestor you are awake."

"It's night; don't disturb him on my account," Thorin offered, not wishing to impose on anyone here, like his previous visit.

"He is in the Hall of Fire with Lord Glorfindel. They are swapping stories and sharing every detail of the days they were parted. Lord Elrond is the only other who they are close to and the lord is also with them." With that he moved away and spoke to another.

Thorin wondered how they did it, but no more than two minutes passed when the door opened giving the three lords who ruled Imladris entrance and they were at his bedside in a flash. Elrond immediately started an exam while Erestor moved to the head to talk with him. "Melcótte, your attendant tonight, was under instructions to fetch me the moment you awoke. We kept you in a healing coma until you could stand the pain."

Elrond finished looking at the raw chest with satisfaction it was healing and not re-infected. "We cannot bandage you or cover your chest. It needs air to allow the skin to regrow."

"How long will I be bedridden this time?" Thorin's deep voice was deceptive. He wasn't going to take orders from prissy elves and needed to get out of bed and stretch his legs.

"We will let you decide. Right now, I need you to sit up and eat." Elrond motioned and a servant who stood in the background stepped to the bed with a tray containing soup and bread.

Thorin's mouth almost drooled and he decided no amount of pain would keep him from his first meal in days. With Elrond's careful handling, his legs were placed over the edge.

"Can you stand?" Elrond asked.

In answer, Thorin gripped the offered forearm and placed bare feet on a rug of braided wool and stood. He was guided to a chair at a small table and he wondered aloud, "Do you always keep furniture for dwarves?"

Elrond smiled at Thorin as he settled him on a chair dwarf sized. "Actually it is for visiting children of either men or elves, but works for dwarves also." He watched Thorin eat and turned back to his companions. "I will be along. Lindir worked hard on your lay, Erestor, so go back and enjoy his efforts."

"I am honored he thought me worthy of song," Erestor commented and addressed Thorin next. "Perhaps when you are able to sit in our Hall, you can hear the lay Lindir wrote about you."

Thorin looked at him in surprise. "Me?"

"Well, you do play a major part, but it is about your father and you and the retaking of the mountain," Erestor clarified.

"Should be interesting," Thorin retorted and returned to his food.

The seneschal's bowed heads to Elrond and departed leaving the lord to sink into a chair sized for his long frame. "How does your chest feel?"

"A lot better than when I was on the bird," Thorin admitted. "The cold affected me and I couldn't stay warm even under the mink blanket."

"I had it cleaned and it will be returned to you. It's been a long time since I've seen a blanket that large of pure chocolate mink."

"We have one of combined summer and winter stoat that will be a wedding gift should I marry. It was made by my grandmother, Paq, for my parents wedding. I haven't seen it since I was young. Mother put it away after father gifted her with a new blanket made from red fox. She saw it in the market when traders came from the Red Mountains and made a comment to one of her ladies she would give anything for it. I was with father when the lady in waiting's husband hurried into the sparing chamber and spoke with a soldier of higher rank. He in turn motioned for General Jötun, who was overseeing a match of seasoned warriors in the ring, including father." Thorin stopped for a bite and drink of water. "Father was in the ring, so Jötun motioned the warrior to his side, eyes remaining on the match. I was standing beside him, so heard everything."

"He said, 'Sir, Princess Lis is coveting ah rich red fox fur blanket. She was asking….,' he stopped when Jötun raised his hand for him to quit talking."

"Jötun hollered, 'Cease the match. Thráin, ye have ah domestic problem that needs yer attention.'"

"Father looked to where Frerin and I were standing, as he let his Warhammer's head hit the sand and leaned on it while he contemplating what the domestic problem might be. Finally he stated, 'I don't see my lads with broken bones or blood running free, so unless it's my wife sending messengers ta say she is in the family way again, I doubt I have ah domestic problem.'"

Elrond chuckled. "I can picture Thráin questioning his general and the tone he would use."

"Aye, I remember the look on father's face when Jötun started laughing and explained the problem. 'Thráin,' he said, 'ye never take into consideration yer lovely wife might want more from ye than just another baby.' This had all the warriors laughing until father held his hand up."

"'I think ye might want ta tell me in private or Lis will know before I do what my answer will be.' He motioned Jötun to him and of course Frerin and I scampered to hear what the problem was with mother."

"Jötun leaned close and whispered, 'Lis saw ah red fox skin blanket that just arrived on ah wagon an is in the market. It is one of ah kind an she is scared someone will get ta it before her. It cost ah pretty price an she said even she didn't have funds ta take from running the household ta splurge on the beautiful blanket.'"

"'Aw, fer crying out loud,' father cried and reached into his pocket for his gold pouch. 'How much is the blasted thing?'"

"'I don't know, but I don't think that is the issue. She wants ye ta buy it as ah personal type gift. You know; the things that get the lasses in the mood?' Jötun explained."

"Father cast glances down at us boys and uttered, 'Right. Ye have said too much already an I'm not explainen what is in it for me at their young age.' He was whispering back and the warriors were getting impatient the prince and ranking general were standing in the middle of the main sparing ring. They didn't care who it was because a match was being held. Father looked around and made his decision. 'I will be back in an hour. Carry on.' He looked down at us. 'Stay here an watch. I'll be back before ye miss me.'"

Thorin stopped and chuckled. "We stayed until the match ended and father still hadn't returned. Jötun was keeping an eye on us, as was Balin. Balin said he would make sure we got back to the family wing. When we entered, starved from not eating for hours; we found our grandparents telling us to wash up and be their guests that night. Frerin quickly asked for our parents and I was getting just old enough to catch looks cast between the adults. Grandmother Dás immediately explained they were on a date and we would see them in the morning."

"'You mean father quit the match for ah dumb ole date with mother?' I asked with all the distain a fifteen year old dwarfling could muster."

"'I believe you may have another sibling if we are lucky,' Grandmother Dás replied hopefully while she helped Frerin onto his booster seat."

"I went quiet at that and slid into my chair; my mind on losing my brother, Gwarin, only two years before. Frerin was over the pain of a death in the family and hoped for a brother. Seeing I wasn't speaking, Grandfather Thrór took me aside later that night and asked what the trouble was."

"'I don't want another death,' I explained. That's when the king put the title aside and held me for a long time in a rocking chair. I must have fallen asleep, for I woke in my own bed and when I entered the main chamber for breakfast, my parents were there and mother was telling how the red fox hair gave a different look to the bedchamber and she was going to redecorate. Father was teasing her about spending his money, but they were looking at each other all through our meal. The grandparents were gone and nothing was said about a baby, but within a few months they announced another was on the way." Thorin stopped talking and sopped the empty bowl.

Elrond escorted him back to bed after taking him to the latrine at the end of the room. He swung a chair by the bed and sat. "I've never heard you talk so much or Thráin mention a child that died."

"Story for another day," Thorin replied. "Funny, we were forbidden to talk about the death and I would appreciate if you didn't mention my slip to father or any dwarf. Security of the mountain is tied up in my little brother's death."

"Now I am very interested and anything you tell me will be held in confidence. That goes for Glorfindel and Erestor also. They may goof around way too much, like my sons, but all know when to keep a secret."

Thorin got comfortable and asked, "Tell me what your life was like at fifteen? That is if you can remember that far back."

Elrond smiled at the crack. "I may have lived over six thousand years, but I do vividly remember my early years. You see, my twin brother and I were kidnapped when only five years of age. Of course my father had already abandoned us most of the time and my mother was so obsessed with our father's safety she could barely give us a hug goodnight." He stopped when a look of revulsion crossed Thorin's face.

"I thought elves ferociously protected their young?"

"It was the First Age of this world after the rising of the sun. Elves were still young and learning to be the parents we evolved into. Nothing could part me from my children when they were elflings and I even refused a summons to the Havens one year because I didn't want to miss one day of the twins' lives in their infancy. My parents loved us, but were caught up in the struggles that plagued us back then. There was a group of elves who killed other elves and it was they who stole us when they raided the coastal town we lived in. They had a fortress on a hill called Amon Ereb where we were taken to live. My brother and I lived with…..," Elrond paused, wondering the best way to explain his convoluted family. "There was a son of a High King of the Ñoldor in Aman who had seven sons. Two of the seven sons kidnapped my brother Elros and I. Lady Galadriel, Celeborn's wife is the first cousin to the two Ñoldor who kidnapped us."

Thorin chuckled. "Your family makes mine seem sane and tame."

"I am related to most of the High Kings in Aman. Anyway, when Elros and I were thirteen, the War of the Wrath started. We would climb to the highest part of the towers and watch the battles rage all around us. Most nights the sky was lit with firefights between dragons and Maiar. Sometimes Maglor and Maedhros would join us and explain what we were seeing. One day when we were fifteen a Maia rode right into our protected city and announced he was Olórin sent from Eönwë, another Maia who was leading the Vanyar armies. Elros and I gathered with the rest to hear what he wanted. Maedhros and Maglor, the two who kidnapped us stepped forward and greeted Olórin, for they knew him from Aman."

"'I am surprised to see you on these shores, Olórin,' Maedhros called out from the top of a set of stone steps leading into his great hall."

"'The tide of war will turn in our favor, Maedhros, but this city will be destroyed and all inhabitants killed. I am sent to retrieve the sons of Eärendil and Elwing. Your life will be spared and the lives of your band of thugs if you turn them over now and ride away from here. Any harm befall them and we will give you to the orcs and Balrogs,' the Maia announced in a loud tone."

"Maglor stepped beside his brother and pleaded to keep us. 'Olórin, we have come to love them as our sons. As kin to them, I plead you allow us to continue raising them.'"

"'Bring them to me,' Olórin bellowed."

"Immediately hands grabbed us and we were hauled to our captors and kin. Olórin dismounted and I never saw anything so beautiful. It was my first look at a Maia and I could see his power and was frightened."

"He looked at us kindly and then asked, 'Has anyone here ever laid a hand on you?'"

"Maglor objected. 'Not a soul would dare harm these elflings.'"

"'I didn't ask you, Maglor,' Olórin replied and looked back to us."

"We had just been beaten by the cook the night before for stealing food because we never got enough to eat. We weren't growing crops during the war and food was scarce. Elros looked scared, so I answered, 'I am Elrond. Yes, we get beat.'"

"Maglor and Maedhros looked stunned. 'Why didn't you ever tell us?'"

"'Who did these things to you?' Maedhros echoed."

"I looked up to them and started naming names. I could see with each name, their countenances darken. They looked at those they considered loyal followers with new eyes."

"Maglor responded to my charges. 'I should have known kinslayers would have no respect for two small waifs that we displaced. He looked at Olórin. 'It is obvious we can't protect them. As much as it pains me to lose what I consider sons; they will be cherished and never again will a hand or boot touch them if taken back to the Havens of Sirion.' He put a hand on my shoulder and Elros' shoulder. 'Should we ever meet again, don't hate us, for we love you and just tried to make amends for what was done to Eluréd and Elurín.'"

"'Who are they?' Elros asked."

"'Your dead uncles,' Maglor replied truthfully. 'It was by our hand they died through neglect and abandonment.'"

"Olórin reached for us and we were scooped in his arms. He took us to his large white stallion and set us before him. With a final look at the only home we could really remember; we left and rode for a long time until reaching a camp with so many tents you couldn't see across it. We rode by banners with staves and flags we had never seen. Olórin pulled up by a large tent with a standard above the rest. Dismounting, he set us on the ground and with a hand on each shoulder escorted us inside. It was full of armored elves that all looked important. One approached and knelt on one knee so he looked us in the eye."

"'These are your great, great, great nephews, King Finarfin,' Olórin said from behind us. 'Where is Eärendil?'"

"Standing, King Finarfin replied, 'He is forbidden to set foot on these lands although I pleaded his case. He flew back to Aman. I told him, I would find his sons and reunite them in Aman.'"

"'No,' a voice from the back of the tent ordered and the king looked surprised."

"'We can't abandoned them again,' he protested, as another beautiful being came up to us. 'Lord Eönwë, I know nothing was said in the planning of Eärendil's sons, but they are still young elflings and can't fend for themselves.'"

"'Lord Manwë did give me instructions. He said future events in Middle Earth depend on the sons of Eärendil remaining.' He motioned with his hand and an elf joined us. He had a short beard and I couldn't take my eyes off it, for elves didn't grow beards. 'Nowë is without a son since his own son, Cirwë, was killed valiantly fighting the last vampire of Morgoth. He said his home is open to them.'"

"I looked for the first time upon the elf who would raise me to my majority. Around me conversations started up again."

"Another elf asked, 'Why doesn't Celeborn take them to raise? After all, they are his great, great nephews.'"

"Again the Maia answered and it became obvious his word was law. 'He will have great influence on their lives, along with Galadriel. Nowë is more stable in his housing, whereas Celeborn and Galadriel will yet explore the new lands and build cities. Their paths will cross in the future with a permanent alliance.'"

"Another tall, silver haired elf came and looked us over. 'I don't see why Círdan should be stuck with them. Galadriel raised their mother and can do the same with these two.'"

"'No, Celeborn, they must take a different path. No more of this will be spoken,' the Maia ordered and all the elves fell silent at the raised voice issuing a decree."

"Elros leaned over to me and whispered, 'I wish they would stop talking and feed us.'"

"There was laughter from those close enough to overhear and the one called Nowë instructed, 'Take him to my young page, who will be most relieved to see they live.'"

"Lord Eönwë waved his hand and Olórin escorted us out and we marched by several tents and a few rows over to a smaller, yet impressive tent."

"Olórin shouted, 'Erestor, come out; I have visitors for you.'"

Thorin chuckled again. "And I assume you two have been together ever since?"

"Most certainly. Now, you've heard my account of being fifteen and you need to rest. Tomorrow if you can walk around by yourself, I will move you to a private room and you won't have to bunk with them." Elrond pointed to three Dúnedain warriors that were brought in the day before with arrow wounds. They were sleeping since Thorin woke and he didn't really notice he was no longer alone in the large healing room. Elrond reached over and touched Thorin's head, pushing him into a healing sleep.


	16. 16 Bilbo Entertains

Scumper stopped the long wagon train King Fengel ordered north to the Lonely Mountain and Dale. In all his years, only rumors and legend of those places reached his home in Edoras. For thirty years he worked a wagon train in the summer, taking one trip per season to the Iron Hills and dealt with a dwarf named Dáin Ironfoot. A messenger came from the elves of changes and to hurry with all the supplies they could part to these other locations. He looked to his left at the king riding beside him. "This is where we meet the elves, Sire. We swing around the south end of Mirkwood and make for the river and this place when we come from the Iron Hills with our ore."

Fengel cut a dashing figure of a warrior and was still spry at seventy-two and sat his horse naturally; a gift of the horsemen of the Riddermark. "Do they always keep you waiting?" Patience wasn't among his sparse virtues and one would be hard pressed to find any at all. He wasn't a beloved king his subjects felt loyalty to and prayed for the day his son, Thengel, would return and take the mantel of king.

"We never wait long. They must bring barges down the Silverlode from Caras Galadhon and it takes up to an hour, depending where their scouts first spotted us," Scumper quickly replied to avoid the king's ire.

Fengel snorted in distain, "I bet they've been watching us for two days. You see how the elves are when they come to Edoras. You can't sneak up on one if you tried and they rarely sleep."

"Here they come," Scumper replied with a finger pointed across the wide Anduin.

Fengel ignored the relief in the wagon master's tone and watched one barge being poled against the current until the front touched a stone Land Wall with elven Cirth and immediately the ramp lowered and two elves anchored the barge using chains with hooks that easily attached to the metal eyelets mounted on spikes driven deeply into the granite.

The elves on horseback filed off and two approached until the horses were nose to nose. "I am Prince Legolas," one introduced himself while the other remained quiet, but observant.

The king looked him over and saw one who didn't portray himself as royalty, but was wearing the garb of the warriors around him; with his leather arm guards, dark blue tunic and black vest. His knee high boots looked broke in and over each shoulder, two ivory colored knife handles were conspicuous, as was the bow in his hand. Scrutiny over, the king spoke, "King Fengel, at your service." He smirked that the best the elves could offer for the meeting was a prince. "Per instructions from Lothlórien, we made haste with a load of supplies for dwarves. Something was said about payment doubling if we were able to reach this mythical Lonely Mountain in one month from this point."

"The mountain is real. Are you leading the caravan all the way to Erebor?" Legolas asked the questions in a soft voice and didn't let his gaze wander. He kept his face stoic when the king dropped his gaze from the piercing blue eyes, but knew the conversation was going as Celeborn instructed.

"I thought to see it for myself," Fengel acknowledged.

' _More like not trusting your hirelings with that much gold,'_ Legolas thought to himself, but knew the elves could read his telegraphed thought. "The March Warden, Haldir Halungiôn will be your guide and insure safe passage through King Thranduil's lands. You did bring the fee he will charge?"

"Highway robbery," Fengel blustered in an angry outburst. "I don't know who this elven king is, but paying five gold coin per wagon and one per horse and man is outrageous."

"If you travel down the east side of the Rhovanion and take the trail that leads by Dol Guldur; it comes out right in this spot." Legolas pointed to a trail going due east.

"Well, we will take it and save our gold," Fengel replied with satisfaction.

"And when King Thranduil sees your wagons at the mountain and he isn't paid for you crossing his southern road, he will attack you with his warriors." Legolas made a show of looking at the large number of wagons and soldiers that accompanied the king from Edoras. He turned his bright blue eyes back to Fengel. "You don't have enough men to hold off an attack by the elves."

"But we're supposed to be allies," Fengel objected. "They can't just slaughter my people."

"Elves are also allies with dwarves, but that didn't stop Thranduil from arresting a handful last year and throwing them in his dungeon for not paying tariff or sending word ahead they were using our roads."

Fengel frowned. "You say that as if you are in charge of this Mirkwood!"

Legolas cast a quick glance to the elf at his side and back. "Follow the road Haldir directs or you may end up in a dungeon."

"I want assurances from Lord Celeborn he will honor his word."

"Has he ever cheated you?" Legolas countered, growing weary of word games. Court intrigue and games of wit was his father's playground, not his. He was a warrior; that happened to be the only son of a king.

"I've never traded more than horses and supplies for his measly parting of iron ore after taking the best for himself. My men tell me how at this very spot, elves rummage through our wagons as if they owned them, ordering the best grade ore be diverted to the barges. I was hoping for a meeting with Lord Celeborn to discuss this situation among others."

"I am emissary for the great lord. You deal with me."

"What are you, his son?" Fengel figured from what he heard that Celeborn would never allow a subordinate free rein in his realm. All correspondence was the lord penning letters with instructions to him.

Legolas didn't answer, but mentally started a conversation. _'What do I say now?'_

' _He is everything my messengers say and more. No, I will wait until this one is dead and deal with his son, if need be.'_

"We are done here, King Fengel." Legolas made a motion and Haldir joined them. "Your guide. I suggest you do exactly as he says. If he gives a good report, we will negotiate for cheaper tolls through the great forest of the Rhovanion." Legolas started to turn his mount.

"Wait, I demand to see Lord Celeborn."

Nobody responded and his anger erupted. "Don't ride away from me, you idiot of a prince," he screamed at Legolas' retreating back. As for the other, he must be dimwitted, for he didn't even pay attention to the conversation, but kept looking around. Fengel gunned his horse at the two with the intent of knocking one or both off the barge into the freezing waters of spring melt. Drawing his sword, he slashed at the hindquarters of the closest horse.

' _ATTACK,'_ Haldir mentally screamed while all the elves knocked arrows so swiftly, they were at full draw before the men realized something was amiss.

Scumper tried to reach his king, but moved too slowly. As if in slow motion he watched the elves move with blinding speed. The silver haired elf spun his horse in one direction and the prince the other and the slicing blade ripped across the thigh of the elf. When the elf's hand rose, an impressive sword that reminded Scumper of the one they took off the dwarf only six months before was preparing to behead their king. Scumper's eyes were glued to the blade that glowed white with a purple haze along the cutting edge. Before the king's head rolled, mastery of the blade that swung with force to fell a tree stopped and the blade was against the side of Fengel's throat and he was frozen in fear.

"I am Lord Celeborn, King Fengel," the deadly elf finally spoke. "You deal with Prince Legolas or I will cut all iron ore from your share and you can mine it yourself from the White Mountains." As the lord spoke, not an arrow faltered and Fengel's guards didn't feel like dying that day. "You see, if dwarves don't do my bidding, they will never use Redhorn Pass again and I will stop them from retaking Moria. They won't challenge my word if I tell you to mine ore yourselves."

"It is said you never deal with dwarves." Fengel found his voice and his eyes wavered for a second to the thigh he injured. The gash was deep and long and bleeding freely down his leg, but not once did the lord look down.

"I don't; I send my messengers, as I do to you. If you don't like my terms, I can redo them." His tone indicated the new stipulations would be austere and not to Fengel's liking.

"No, Lord Celeborn, I don't wish any change. Forgive me the injury. I only meant to scare your horses and give you a dip."

Celeborn's gaze didn't leave his, but the elves as one relaxed the drawstrings of their bows and the arrows were back in their quivers. Without further word, he turned his horse and the elves sans Haldir were back on the barge and it was moving. Fengel and the men never heard the silent commands Celeborn was issuing.

"Try anything with me and I won't stop my blade," Haldir warned Fengel and motioned for the wagon train to start moving and took his spot at its head. Fengel and Scumper made haste to flank him.

"Haldir," Fengel tried conversation. "I did not know Lord Celeborn was present. I hope he doesn't hold my words or actions against me."

"Your greatest worry is ahead. When King Thranduil learns how you treated his cousin and attempted to dislodge his son from the barge; he might throw you in his dungeon." Haldir looked sideways and smirked. "Don't think a crown will help you. He threw Thorin, king of all dwarves into his dungeon just a few months ago."

"Oh," Fengel muttered and went silent; pondering how much trouble he was in. He had zero doubt the elf spoke truth.

* * *

"Daeradar!" Arwen gasp when her grandfather limped into the Great Hall named for him. She jumped off her seat and rushed to confront him. Her eyes strayed to a healthy Legolas and her eyes held scorn. "I hope whoever did this died by your sword?"

"No, he still lives," Legolas truthfully answered.

Healers ascended the last set of stairs and hurried to their lord and Emoth ran from a different direction while Arwen held one of his hands imparting warmth, love and a small bit of healing.

A healer dropped to his knees and rent the legging. "It will have to be stitched, my Lord."

Celeborn sighed, "Fine; come to my study." He leaned down and kissed Arwen's cheek. "Entertain Legolas tonight. Your daernaneth will want to fuss over me for this scratch."

"She is resting. We worked on the material for my wedding dress and set the looms until she looked towards the river and told me you would be injured and she would relax before sitting at your side all night." Arwen smiled up at him. "I hope my husband is that caring when I am birthing his elflings."

"Are you telling me your daernaneth is with elfling?" Celeborn asked humorously while the healers and Emoth laughed.

Arwen slapped his hand lightly and released. "Go to your wine." With a final kiss to his cheek, she told Legolas she would dine with him after he bathed.

* * *

The smooth wine helped Celeborn remain still while a needle punched through his skin. He declined aid from the healers to deaden the pain kept his mind distracted musing on the latest battle where he was repeatedly surrounded by orcs and trolls and didn't so much as break a sweat after hours of slaughter. His mind replayed how a stupid Edain got through his defenses and drew blood. He would work with his Galadhrim and recreate the incident to learn where he and his abilities failed. He didn't like failure.

Emoth approached and waited until the lord noticed his presence and motioned him close. "Your bath is ready. I filled the talan tub."

"For this little scratch!" Celeborn snarled with distain.

"I ordered it done."

Celeborn silently toasted his wife with his glass and upended it as he rose. Handing the empty glass to Emoth, he limped to her. _'I am ordered to stay off this leg for three days per our nagging healers. Any ideas how you are going to keep me in bed?'_ His arm settled around her shoulders and together they ascended to their private area, with all eyes on their backs.

' _We could lounge in our treetop haven and drink wine and watch Ithil and Anar play a game of tag,'_ she offered. _'I want us linked and see for myself how that mongrel was able to do this.'_

He smiled lovingly into her eyes as they climbed the final set of steps to the treetop and open air. In the distance below songs drifted to them of a great lord struck down. _'I will let them have their amusement. Vellon will give me names and any warrior singing will spar with me.'_

* * *

Bilbo looked inside his pantry with great satisfaction. It took months, but his larder was once again bulging with his favorite foods and he cared not of the raised eyebrows when he ordered four times more than he could consume in a year. He let out a cross between a scream and squeal when a hand clapped his shoulder. Spinning, he saw a grinning Fili and Kili. "Boys," he cried in delight and hugged them hard.

"You did say tea was at four," Fili began.

"And we needn't knock," Kili finished.

"And I mean it." Bilbo looked over their shoulders. "Are you alone?"

"We're the advance scouts," Fili informed him as they moved into the kitchen and Bilbo busied himself with cups and cookies. He noticed the boys didn't wait for their tea to steep before grabbing fresh baked cookies he took from the oven just an hour before.

"The dwarves and elves are in the old forest just north of Hobbiton. We are here specifically to seek an invite to supper for Lord Círdan of the Havens and his steward, Lord Taíban. Also, I would like to invite my mother, Princess Dis and Lord's Gróin and Garad and Lady Gellett, Glóin's wife and his son, Gimli." Fili paused, "And Lady Dioari, mother of Dori, Nori and Ori. Umm, let's see," he ticked off on his fingers. "Lady Meeli is Lord Gróin's wife, but is poorly and won't come, but Lady Dwin, mother of Balin and Dwalin will be here." He stopped with his list of names.

"That's all?" Bilbo questioned with a fair amount of skepticism; remembering the dwarves that didn't stop invading his home until thirteen of them crowded in including Gandalf.

Fili laughed while Kili smiled. "That's all, I promise. Well….if you don't count Kili and me. We are coming also."

"Wait," Kili exclaimed with a knock to his brother's head. "Don't forget El and El."

"Oh yeah. They will be escorting Lord Círdan because they know the way and it wouldn't look good for one of the most important elven lords to wander about lost like Thorin did," Fili explained and took a gulp of his cooling tea.

"I would be delighted to host a dinner for them," Bilbo exclaimed enthusiastically as he rubbed his hands together. "What would be the best food for them?"

"Whatever is in your pantry," Kili replied with a smile. "We weren't fussy and neither are those coming. That is the dwarves. I don't know about the elves and only ate once with Lord Círdan and his friend."

"I'll have a veritable feast ready. I just bought a chicken and duck and….," he prattled on while Fili and Kili grabbed as many cookies as their hands could hold and stood. Seeing his guests were leaving, Bilbo also stood and escorted them to the door.

* * *

They proudly escorted the dwarves and most important of elves through the middle of Hobbiton openly grinning at the disapproving looks thrown their way and mutters of Bilbo Baggins would bring ruin upon them with his Tookish ways carried easily to their ears. Up a path that folded back on itself twice while climbing the tallest hill, Fili and Kili led the ponies and taller horses to a round green door with a symbol in Sindar Cirth still visible and starting to glow in the setting sun. Fili wondered how long it would hold magic powers of light as he dismounted.

Círdan looked amusedly at the mark as he swung off his horse. Following the shorter dwarves, he, Taíban and Elrondion's brought up the rear.

Kili rapped on the door with his knuckle dusters and waited. He turned to the others. "Fili and I were the second group to arrive when the Company gathered here a year ago." He shook his head. "I never thought so much could happen in one year."

"Enough melancholy, lad," Garad chastised as the door opened and Bilbo stood before them.

The lads noticed immediately he changed into his best clothes as he stood back and motioned everyone inside, and watched as the two tall elves bent in half to get through his door. He saw the surprise on their faces when they could stand upright in his hole.

Fili made introductions and when Dis had her turn, Bilbo reached out and took her hand and gave it a gentle shake. "Thorin had a rough time. You will hear of things he did to me and I want you to understand, we are a fraternity of brothers. I consider Thorin a close and dear friend, so when you hear of rumors, and you will; remember dear lady, Thorin carried the gold sickness in him and isn't to blame."

Dis' eyes teared up and she impulsively hugged Bilbo. Releasing him, she imparted her own salutation. "Every other letter told of your bravery. I trust we can be blessed with your companionship on our journey home?"

Bilbo felt himself blushing as the piercing blue eyes entreated his company. He found thoughts of courting Thorin's sister flashing through his mind and was happy he wasn't in the Golden Wood with the witch reading such carnal images. "I hadn't planned on going this trip." He stepped back and looked up into the amused expression of Lord Círdan and knew he read his mind also. As he told them to make themselves at home, he wondered if all elves could read minds.

"No."

Bilbo laughed. "But you can, Lord Círdan?"

Círdan smiled back and removed his cloak. "There are a handful of us born before the sun who have lived for so long that certain talents were granted by the Valar." He looked around. "Mithrandir told me of you and your home. He understated its charm."

As Bilbo handed him a glass of wine that was handed down for generations, he was grateful for a change in topics and explained he had several bottles brought from his cousins, the Baggins' of Hobbiton.

"I was wishing a word of business with you, Master Bilbo." Círdan's request caught the Hobbit quite by surprise.

"If I can be of assistance, name it," Bilbo graciously replied and motioned for the tall lord to sit. That's when he noticed the other elf standing quietly in the background. "Please, help yourself to my wine."

"No thank you," Taíban quickly replied and remained where he was; close, but not intrusive.

Bilbo sat in a chair and was relieved when Círdan folded his lanky frame into one just slightly larger.

"I would like to purchase fresh spring salad supplies for my elves. That way the dwarves can eat the meat, breads and potatoes we have in the wagons and on pack animals."

"I'll be happy to speak with our mayor. I'll do so first thing in the morning, but now, please join me for a light meal." Bilbo led the way into the crowded dining room and was happy to see the lads moved the table and placed chairs around it. Relief showed on his face which had the boys grinning and reading his mind that Fili wasn't walking the length of the table covered with food with ale in his hands. His place as host at the head of the table was waiting as was two spots to his left.

Círdan looked at the mountain of food and commented dryly, "I hate to think what you consider a normal meal."

Bilbo chuckled and talk flowed companionably, with Bilbo recounting his adventures at the insistence of his guests. As he recounted his games with the Gollum creature, his hand slipped into his vest pocket and he lovingly caressed the ring.

* * *

Bilbo rode Myrtle for three days with the traveling dwarves and elves. All wanted to see the Hobbit who joined the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. At the edge of Bree, he bid everyone goodbye as he rode down the long line with sorrow in his heart that he wouldn't be going on this adventure. Lady Dis promised to write and Fili and Kili said they would stop and see if any foals were born from Myrtle and Minty when next they passed through the Shire. He stopped to visit his Took relatives; the only ones who really understood what an adventure was like.

He heard comments like, "Not natural, a hobbit riding a pony; I didn't expect him for a year or more; He acts like the Took's with their peculiar ways and adventures; Wonder if he brought back more gold," when he wound his way past the Green Dragon and farmers market and up the hill to Bag End.

It was a warm spring evening and flowers all around his Smail opened their fragrant, vibrant colored pedals while he was away. The sight lifted his spirits and he settled on the bench for an evening smoke and to watch the sun set. On the morrow, he would plant the acorn and looked around for the best location. He decided just across the lane over the hill where it was the first thing he saw when stepping from his round door. He could sit on his bench and watch it grow.

His thoughts turned to Rivendell and he wondered what spring looked like in the hidden valley. That it would surpass any display of gardening skill the finest horticulturist in the Shire could offer, he had no doubt. Tapping his pipe ashes against the side of the armrest, he rose and went to his pantry. It was in need of replenishing after his entertaining. He decided on a simple supper of ham and baked squash.


	17. 17 From The East And West

A warbling whistle that carried far over spring grasslands poured forth from Gandalf's puckered lips. He knew his faithful horse, Shadowfax, was close. At the head of the slow moving wagons, he walked and looked. Then he saw the majestic white animal top a rise and stop in the morning sun; his beauty bringing exclamations of admiration from those who spotted him. With a hand held up to stop the procession, all waited for the wizard to greet the horse. They watched as he effortlessly, with speed and agility that belied the appearance of an aged man, vaulted upon the bare back when with a welcome neigh, the steed ran to him. With no reins to guide the beast, he rode up and down the line showing him off and telling everyone his name was Shadowfax and not to approach him because he was wild.

Lióni trekked just behind her father, who was riding one of the few ponies they brought. She didn't mind being on foot. No, her largest complaint was the still chilly nights and spring thermal winds that whipped her hated beard. She glared at the back of the wizard, who now was riding just ahead of her father; leading like he was in charge and overseeing every decision with his pedantic ways. If not for him, she wouldn't be wearing her fake beard, but she did agree. She caught something out of the corner of her eye and whipped her head to the left. Bofur raced his pony across the plains and joined Gandalf. They started talking, but she was too far behind the lead ponies to hear what Bofur was telling the wizard.

"Bofur, how far ahead did you scout?"

"About five miles, Gandalf. Far in the distance are dark shapes that aren't bison. My guess is a band of orcs is traveling south to Mordor."

"Gwaihir did warn us. Call a meeting of the Company and Lords."

Bofur raised a horn to his lips and gave one blast. Soon the hoof beats of ponies racing caught attention of everyone in the slow moving caravan. The Company raced to the front and Bofur turned and motioned for Dóvad and lords of the Longbeards to join them. The word orc carried clearly and was passed along the line to the rear and parents were seen to be calling for dwarflings that wandered from the caravan to play and explore back to safety.

Gandalf raised his hand and they came to a halt. He spoke and gestured and the Company split and rode down each side of the wagons confirming that a band of orcs was a few miles from them.

"We will keep moving," Óin called from his mount.

Beside him, Nori called his own instructions. "All able bodied dwarrow arm up an keep the dwarflings close. We don't want any ta get picked off."

"We won't camp tonight, but keep moving in the light of ah full moon," Bifur hollered over the creaking wagons and they rode down the long line repeating their instructions.

Lióni slipped into her father's personal wagon he was allotted for being Lord of the Blacklocks. She strapped on her armor and dug weapons from under duffels filled with personal clothing. Armed, she dropped off the back and went in search of a band to join with. She knew few ever saw her bearded and she could merge with one of the Longbeard units.

* * *

Nori sat his pony on the tallest point and watched the yellow moon grow in the east. Gandalf called a halt to let the draft animals rest and eat for a couple hours. Supper that night would be jerky and water. No fires were allowed.

Across from him, Bofur likewise chewed a strip of dried meat from the back of his pony and looked into the night for moving shadows now that the moon chose to join them. So far all was still. He looked to his right and could just make out the form of Bifur, but at the tail end of the caravan, Óin blended into the night. Nor could he make Dwalin, who was at point, out. In between, on foot, were the warriors from Jötunheim. Their guards were mounted and spaced closer to the wagons and dwarrowdams and young.

Gandalf watched as one by one, dwarflings nodded off and were placed in wagons atop supplies. Only the very old were also helped back into wagons designed to carry them and he motioned for Dwalin to get them moving.

The moon turned from buttery to icy white and the animals plodded through the night. The only sounds were hooves and an occasional squeaky wheel.

Dawn broke and the wagons were still moving. Gandalf called halt and told everyone to sleep for a few hours. As tired bodies settled under wagons, he motioned for Dwalin and Nori to accompany him. Gandalf took them about half a mile from where dwarrows were unhitching animals and Bofur setting watch.

"Where do you think they are?" Dwalin asked as he stifled a yawn.

Gandalf smiled fondly down upon him. "They are keeping out of our way for some reason. And that is bad. Normally orcs would risk death to steal what is in our group, both dwarves and food. He pointed at a spot just ahead and they kicked their mounts until standing over a clearly defined path of orc shoes.

"Looks ta be about fifty of the beggars," Nori commented. They looked at tracks in the dirt that crossed their path.

Gandalf soberly led them back to the assembly and told them to get some sleep; he would keep watch. While the camp slumbered and watch changed every two hour for three shifts, Gandalf pondered what the orcs could be doing.

Three more times they spotted orcs in the far distance and each time were allowed to pass unmolested. Three weeks of travel at a cautious pace had them standing at the banks of the River Running. Gandalf called for a meeting of Dóvad, his family and the lords. "Not far to the north is the confluence of the Redwater," Gandalf stated as he pointed in a direction. "We can either cross here and make for the road that runs along the east side of Mirkwood or turn north to the Iron Hills."

"What is the benefit of either?" Dóvad asked while the Company listened.

Gandalf gave careful thought before replying. "If we continue west to the road, should the orcs that are trailing us attack; we can make for safety inside the forest. The River Redwater doesn't run straight like the Running and we won't make good time. My advice is to cross here. Also, there is a bridge further upstream where the Old Forest Road exits Mirkwood."

"How will we cross?" Óin asked as he looked across the wide river with its spring melt off raising waters to dangerous levels. He was sure undertows and eddies would take souls.

"We will camp here and I'll send word to the eagles," Gandalf stated. "I'm sure your dwarrowdams could use a rest before the next part of the journey."

"Aye, we could," Risári spoke for her family. "This is a good place to wait. Plenty of firewood and shelter from those pesky orcs."

Gandalf favored her with a smile. "It is settled."

"Wait a minute," Dóvad blustered and cast a glare at his mother-in-law. "I should think more discussion is warranted.

"I say let the wizard choose," Risári snapped back. "It is done."

Gandalf scanned the skies for anything flying that he could summons. In the distance he spotted a hawk hunting for mice and mentally hailed for an audience. Everyone watched in fascination as a hunter of the skies drifted in their direction and to their astonishment landed on the wizard's outstretched sleeve. "I need your help, little one. Fly to the Great Eagles and tell them the dwarves from the Rhûn require assistance and we are just south of the joining of rivers that flow from the Iron Hills and Misty Mountains. And then stop by my fellow helper in the woods by Rhosgobel and tell him I am getting close to the eastern wall of trees that protect the secrets of Mirkwood. And don't worry; Radagast communes with animals much better than I. He will understand every cry from your beak." He tossed the hawk into the air and watched him swiftly flap his wings and in seconds was out of sight.

Dóvad looked around until spotting his daughter. He motioned for her to join him. "Lass, I have ah wee proposition for ye. If ye help yer mother an grandmother four hours ah day, I'll let ye spend that amount of time standing guard." He saw her face light up and she hugged him hard.

"Agreed." She looked at Gandalf. "Do I have to wear this beard around him?"

"He isn't ah dwarf, so yes," her father laid down the law firmly.

"I had to try," she muttered and went to help the dwarrowdams set their camp.

* * *

Lord Fárin paused at the top of Dimrill Stairs and looked at the East Gate, its metal doors shining like a beacon. The battle that raged for all those long years flooded back. He hadn't had a need to come this way since then and the loss of so many, including most of the Durin leadership crashed back upon his shoulders. Wildflowers bloomed in the vibrant green grass that begged to be eaten by his animals, unconcerned a dwarf was trying not to cry.

"So this is where the mighty war of Azanulbizar took place?" Fárin's youngest, Dárin asked as he looked around with interest, not aware his father's heartache.

Fárin sniffed once and ran a sleeve across his eyes. "Aye, this is where the final battle was fought." He pointed to a spot. "King Thrór and many Durin's and mighty soldiers ashes are buried under that mark."

Dárin trotted up the hill and looked at a massive stone with Angerthas Erebor etched in the stone. "Here lies Thrór, king of the dwarves; Prince Frerin son of Prince Thráin II; Lord Náin of the Iron Hills; Lord Fundin of Erebor; Lord Dwili son-in-law of Thráin II; Twelve Generals of the clans and many valiant warriors who fell at the Battle of Azanulbizar." As he read each name, a tear ran from his father's eyes.

"It was like yesterday when the pit was dug an only Durin's laid their own ta rest. I remember Thorin pouring oil an tar over the bodies an lighting it himself. One by one, the highest ranking of the dead were added until ah pile of ash four feet deep was all that remained. Thorin, Balin, Dáin Ironfoot, Dwalin, Óin and his little brother, Glóin, Dori and Nori, all carried the rocks ye see while the eldest Durin alive at the battle, Lord Gróin, stood where I'm standing now an wept. I remember him saying he wasn't ready ta say goodbye ta his older brother, Fundin. Nor would he ever accept they lost the body of Thráin." Slowly Fárin moved to stand beside his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yer brothers fought bravely an only by the grace of Mahal did they go home with me. Ye were just ah young lad an I would see yer eyes light with fire when they spoke of the glory of battle an spin their tales. Son, let me tell ye, there is only grief beyond measure when ye lose that many good souls."

"Is that why ye speak so little of that time?" Dárin asked and watched as his father pulled a rag from his pocket and blew his nose. He was starting to understand the loss his father carried forever in his soul.

"That, an I would like ta see yer cousin, Thorin, give up his quest ta find the dead. A more stubborn Durin, I've never seen in that one."

"How come he never comes ta the White Mountains?" Dárin asked as they made their way back to the trail where the others were almost upon them. They had ridden ahead at Fárin's request. "He always sends Lord Balin."

"Balin is his chief advisor and a word from him is as if Thorin spoke. I remember my time in Erebor when Thráin would speak and everyone acted as if King Thrór gave the order. Also, there were at that time Durin's Folk like Gróin and Fundin who could issue a command and nobody questioned their authority. The mountain was ah sight ta behold in its smooth operating. Only Khazad-dûm housed more dwarves during its pinnacle." He stopped talking when the lead wagons arrived with Lord Teki leading and his aged father, Lord Hepti, riding in the wagon with others of his age.

Teki pointed to the monument, "I remember Lord Rinid, son of the master crafter, Lord Hónid, with his chisels and hands flying over that rock. I never did see it finished." He turned his pony and rode to look and read the in inscription for himself.

As Fárin slowly made his way down the steps cut millennia before by their ancestors, many dwarves climbed the gentle rise to pay respects to the leaders of the greatest battle of their time.

"Learn those names, Arli," Vali, her mother cautioned. "If we are to snag Thorin Oakenshield for you; the way to his heart is through his family. Ask him about them, and listen to his reply. Glean knowledge above the other dimwitted lasses who will be courting him. Show the king that you are his soulmate."

Arli rolled her eyes, but concentrated on memorizing the names to ask her grandfather about. She knew he could shed light upon the names in a way she could remember.

* * *

"Okay, Cái, my turn. Question or Command: Who is who is better looking, Thorin Oakenshield or Fili?"

"Command," Cái cheerfully called out. The lasses were walking side by side through the pines near the head of the long caravan that stretched out for a mile, with elves both leading and following in their large wagons.

Asli, the daughter of a lord at Ered Luin and old enough for consideration to marry Thorin, looked around at something to challenge the oldest daughter of Lord Balin. They were close to the same age and quite good friends. "I was hoping you would answer. I would love to be queen over all the dwarves, but Fili is quite a catch also." She spotted her challenge. "See that stream?" When Cái nodded, Asli told her what she wanted. "I want you to take a stone from the creek and throw it at Kili's back."

Cái looked to where Kili was riding his pony not far from them. "Do I have to hit him?"

"Of course, silly. Either that, or you simply answer my question." She smugly smiled.

Cái gave her a dirty look as she adjusted her beard. "I think they are both good looking as only a Durin can be, however, I think Kili is the cutiest."

Asli's eyes grew wide. "I never thought of him that way. You don't suppose I could be chosen for him? I don't want to after…." she dropped her tone to a whisper and Cái strained to catch it, "after, his dalliance with an elf."

"Which one do you want?" Cái dropped their silly dwarvish game they played as youngsters.

Asli grew pensive and her face behind the beard blushed. "I like the idea of being queen of all dwarves, but think Fili is a better catch. He is our age, whereas, Thorin is old. I don't want an old husband who will leave me a widow for at least two centuries."

Cái looked sad as she replied, "I understand. It isn't Thorin's fault fate made him work like a slave to provide for us. He is gifted, as Durin's are, and his skills much in demand. They won't find a better blacksmith in all Middle Earth to replace him."

"Cái," a voice called from behind them and they turned to see, Cát, Cái's mother rushing towards them. "Have you seen your sister?"

"No, I thought she was walking with you," Cái covered for her wayward sibling. She knew very well little sister, Bát, was taking a turn as guard near the end of the caravan and not far from the trailing elves. Their mother strictly forbade them have anything to do with elves because she didn't trust them. "I'm sure she will be back by supper. She is almost of age and feeling her freedom."

"Almost doesn't make an adult," Cát sharply retorted.

"She is the same age as Gimli and feels because he is allowed to wander at will, that is her prerogative as well," Cái reasoned.

"She will not run wild like her cousin," Cát vowed. "She will be married proper in a few years and learn to be a lady of worth. Her father spoiled her," she finished her rant and dropped back to complain to Gimli's mother, Gellett.

* * *

"The eagles are here," Dwalin called from his lookout position.

"Here we go again," Dóvad muttered under his breath. After four days of sitting, they would be on their way again. He did have to admit the break did them good and the dwarrowdams used the time to make sure everyone was washed and all clothes cleaned. Dwarrow mended anything broken on the wagons and hunted, while keeping a sharp eye out for those trailing orcs.

"Greetings, Lord Mithrandir," Landroval greeted. "Gwaihir just returned from a trip to Taniquetil with a report or he would have come."

"Which route did he fly?" Gandalf questioned and motioned for the eagles to start ferrying wagons loaded with dwarves across the wide river.

"Both ways. He says a large band of dwarves are with Círdan moving east."

Gandalf smiled broadly, "Círdan comes. That is good news. It has been too long since I've seen him. And he better not be going as far as Imladris and stopping or he'll have me to answer to."

"On his return, he flew Caradhras Pass and another band of dwarves should be upon the Golden Wood by now."

"That would be Thráin's brother-in-law, Lord Fárin. He is making excellent time and we should be at the mountain about the same time. I hope Thranduil doesn't give them grief."

"There is a party of men about to enter the Old Forest Road," Landroval added.

The news was welcome. "That would be the first supplies from the south, but why take that route. I would have expected them to cut at the crossing with eight channels and take the road through Gladden Fields on the east side. That's the route they use when going to the Iron Hills." Not getting an answer, Gandalf looked at the progress in moving dwarves. About half were on the other side. He would wait and be the last over. He was surprised to see a dwarf lass standing before him as he spoke with the Great Eagle. "Yes, lass? Lióni isn't it?"

She bobbed her head and cast a glance at the eagle and then back to the wizard. "I don't want to impose, but have heard the tale of the rescue of Thorin Oakenshield and his Company and how they rode for hours on the backs of the eagles." She drew a deep breath. "I should like to ride across the river on this one's back with you."

Gandalf's eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. "And you shall. I like dwarrowlasses with spunk. Tell me, are you pledged to anyone?"

She looked startled at the question. "My father, Lord Dóvad, was arranging a match when King Thorin arrived and annulled it. He said I was to be taken to the Lonely Mountain and bartered away like chattel."

Gandalf threw back his head and roared. "I doubt Thorin said anything of the kind." He sobered and rose to his full height and towered over her. "I've dealt with Durin's Folk for a long time and their ways of insuring the line is the best must be honored. If you wish, I will tell Thorin to pick another and let you go to a lesser lord, should he be inclined to choose you."

Lióni gave it thought without hastily replying and she had a flashback of his half-naked body, gleaming with sweat. She didn't like the thought of another dwarrowlass running her hands over his scarred torso. She lifted eyes to meet the blue ones of the wizard. "Should I be chosen, I won't need interference from you."

Gandalf grinned again and lifted her to the back of Landroval. _Oh, he and Thorin were going to have a long talk about this lass._ He motioned for Shadowfax to accept a lift.

* * *

Lord Fárin led his dwarves from Dimrill Stair in a line due east to avoid the elves who didn't allow them into their forest to the south. He wished no issue with the elves and figured Thranduil would be enough to deal with. A pile of bags had him calling for a final halt that day while his guards rushed to look inside.

"Here is ah sack of grain," one cried while another, audibled, "Jerky."

Fárin looked instinctively towards the dark forest and its watching eyes. "I heard stories of supplies left near the Golden Wood for those who came ta us. They must want us ta not come banging on their doors begging food." He motioned them to keep moving and ordered his son to make sure the bags were dispersed in wagons that were now empty of supplies.

"How long will it take us to get beyond sight of those tall trees," his son, Dárin, asked when they sat at a fire near a spring fed stream their first night on the east side of the Misty Mountains.

"About three days an we cut north along the Anduin," he answered and bit a chunk of jerky in a long strip. Chewing, he swallowed before adding, "When Lis married Thráin, her party led by yer grandfather, Hárin and Gandalf, actually skirted the east boundary of Lothlórien an saw the trees close up. They knew elves were watching them the entire time an on the last day before they moved away from the trees, the witch joined them. She was accompanied by ah host of elven warriors who didn't speak, but watched them closely. Gandalf greeted the lady warmly an hugged her. They were talking the language of the elves an it was ah beautiful sound."

"Do ye think the elves will pay us ah visit?" Dárin asked with hope in his tone. "I've never seen an elf."

"Where we are going, ye will see elves an men regularly. Everyone went ta the mountain."

"How long will we stay?"

"That depends on the king. As his uncle, he may ask me ta stay on as an advisor. I am prepared that I may never see the White Mountain's again."

"Does mother know?" This time Dárin's tone didn't hold hope of adventure. He figured his family would always be together in the vast caves of the White Mountains.

"She knew when she married me that Lis was ta go ta Erebor. She loved it there an told me it would suit her fine not ta have ta make the return trip at her age."

"What is ta become of me? Ye have Gárin as yer heir an Járin yer spare, but I don't have ah title ta inherit."

"That's why I'm takin ye with me, lad. I'm sure Thorin will find ah good use for ye, an after all, ye are first cousins."

Bowls of mush from the fresh wheat left by the elves was ready and Fárin delighted in the roasted nuts and honey that was added. Talking ceased as hungry dwarves ate fresh food. Seemed like the elves knew exactly what they liked to eat.


	18. 18 Into the Breach Once More

Celeborn lay naked on a bed he rarely used. It was his third bedroom that housed his head mounts, and skins from his numerous kills graced the floor or were tossed carelessly over the backs of chairs. A line of fletching made from goose feathers for a new batch of arrows was strung in front of the fire, drying the dye he used to transform them from white to dark grey. A white silk sheet was bunched over his groin for a measure of decorum as two healers once again examined his leg, imparting healing. The foot of his healing leg was resting on the floor and good leg stretched down the bed.

"Light work did not include sitting for hours at your desk, my lord," Maiawë, the master healer of Lothlórien chastised lightly. "Your leg is stiff and I want you to keep it elevated tonight and definitely not in the current position. Here let me raise it."

He made to grab a pillow when his taciturn patient snarled, "I'll put the leg in any blasted position I flipping choose!" He was faster than his healer and threw the pillow across the room. "You've done enough fussing over this scratch. Tomorrow I'll be back to my normal routine."

"I let him have his toys today." A voice had the healers turning and bowing reverential heads in her direction. Galadriel looked at her frowning husband. "Your bath is ready. I see you did as I requested and disrobed." She looked around. "Where are the offending robes?"

"Emoth has already removed them," he growled as a twinge of pain let him know he spent too much time on his healing limb. He rose, drawing the sheet around his waist. "Am I to be bathed like an elfling again?"

She smiled and he saw she had changed into her almost sheer sleeveless gown that ended at the top of her thighs leaving long bare legs and bare feet to the gaze of his healers. The primal urge to harm the ellon looking upon her, although their thoughts were shrouded, caused fire to flash in his eyes and her smile widened. She retrieved the pillow from the floor and held it in front of her as she approached. Her eyes drifted to the younger healer, who was staring at the floor, before settling on their old friend, Master Healer, Lord Maiawë. "Thank you. Lord Celeborn and I will dine in our private chambers. Could I trouble you to inform Emoth?"

The younger healer spoke up, "I would be honored to pass such a message on."

"I understand you and Vellon spent hours today in discussion?" Maiawë subtlety chastened.

"He is my head steward and I still have a kingdom to run," Celeborn acerbically replied and wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders. "You two are dismissed. I don't need to see you again."

As they hurried away, Galadriel's musical voice, filled with laughter followed, "About this time tomorrow, my dear healers." She turned to him and tossed the pillow onto the bed. "I'm sure young Lobán is being punished for something; drawing the lot to assist with you."

"He saw more of you than I like," Celeborn growled and his gaze lowered down her body, taking in a gown that showed more than it hid, although in an alluring way. He felt himself responding as he reached out and pulled a ribbon on a bow just below her throat and the sheer gown fell open to between her breasts. His fingers automatically reached for the offending bow and it parted down to her navel. With each pull of a ribbon his desire grew. His hand found the last one over her mons and the gown parted.

"My naneth wears less than this to keep my adar happy," Galadriel stated and let the material slide off her shoulders. Naked, she stood proudly before him and tugged the sheet from his fingers. "I thought we could wash each other like elflings or newly bonded."

He tried to draw her to the bed and she resisted.

"You know I cannot stand the smell of the ingredients in your dies."

Deflating a little, he took her hand and they walked through their private hall to the bathing chamber. Steam was rising off the water in the large oval tub sunken into the stone floor. She helped him down the steps at one end until they were mid-thigh deep. Helping him sit, she reached for a jar of scented soap. It carried the scent of pine and he slid down until under the water. Surfacing, he allowed her to wash his hair. "While I was occupied, what did your mirror disclose?" He allowed his hands to play with her assets and expected to hear some mundane discourse about another cat eating their sheep.

"Círdan is with a large band of dwarves on the Great East Road. I surmise they will be at Elrond's in a few days. I was given a vision of them in the pines."

He perked up. Since trade between elves, men and dwarves ceased, he had no reason to visit the Havens and hadn't seen the mariner for at least….he thought…. only twice since Celebrían.

"I know, meleth-nín. We made this place our security and shut the world out. We can no longer hide. Events are unfolding at a rapid pace and we must be part of it. Even Thranduil must give up his sanctuary."

"Does he only go as far as Imladris?" He rose and let her run a soapy sponge over his body. In a moment, he would return the favor with her favorite scent; a light rose.

"He plans on seeing the dwarves all the way to Erebor." She avoided his healing area. "Turn around."

"Are you going to warn Elrond?"

"No, let him be surprised. Our daeriôns are scouting ahead, so Elrond will know they are close before they descend into the valley, and I saw Glorfindel on western patrol. I'm sure he knows they are getting close."

"Vellon told me the dwarves are coming down Dimrill Stair. He did as you requested."

"You are clean." She set the cleaning cloth on the stone edge of the tub and submerged, allowing her hair to float in golden tresses above her until completely wet.

Celeborn grabbed a handful and tugged her face above the water. "Continue." He washed her hair, one of his secret joys, while she obliged.

"There will be another battle at the mountain."

His eyes darkened and he focused on the task at hand, fingers massaging her favorite soap onto every inch of hair. "Tell me."

"Elrond and our daeriôns are fighting, as are Círdan and Thranduil."

He sighed, "And me as well?"

"Yes. We can't allow Mithrandir to face a possible dark wizard alone. He needs his friends."

"Did you see this wizard?" He so wanted a face to hate.

It was her turn to sigh. "No, just a gaining of Sauron's powers. He is sending more fighters from Mordor and I'm afraid this time they are led by the Nazgûl. I don't know why, but Sauron desperately does not wish for the mountain to thrive under the dwarves. You must take a message to Thranduil. He must be responsible for the protection of the mountain and an ally when needed. With Círdan reinforcing my words, he will listen. I will write to Círdan also." She sank down and let him rinse her hair.

Done bathing each other, Celeborn rose and helped her up.

"Sit. I don't have time for you to humor our healers. I need your leg a hundred percent tonight."

He sat on the cold stone and she knelt before him. "I get cold, hard rock and you warm water. You will make it up to me."

She looked up into his laughing eyes. "I'll make you forget your brains are getting cold."

He grinned and watched her hand bearing _Nenya_ glow white as she laid it gently on his healing scar. He could feel cells knitting together. When she pulled her hand back, the wound was gone.

"You could have done this days ago," he complained and once again placed weight on the leg. To his relief, the pain was gone, although it would take a few more days for him to strengthen the muscle. Taking her hand they exited up a set of stone steps and reached for warm towels. "When do I leave?" he asked and started drying her lithe, lean body.

"As soon as possible, meleth-nín." She stood still until he was done and returned the favor.

"Tell me I don't have to go with the dwarves," he complained and watched as she swiftly braided her hair.

"No, I want you with Thranduil when the dwarves start entering his lands. You, he will listen to and we don't need a war between him and Thráin."

He grabbed her braid and let his powers dry it from base to tip and watched as she loosened the braid and grab a brush. "Are you going to dry mine?"

"In a moment." She drew the brush through the tangles and soon her hair was cascading in loose waves down her back. Only then did she dry his and they walked nude down their private hall to the master bedroom, her fingers resting on his.

* * *

Thorin advanced and parried. His first workout stretched his new skin and he was sure it would crack and bleed. Now, three weeks later, he felt normal, although his sparring partner this warm day wouldn't allow him a tunic, stating he needed to observe his patient's skin.

Elrond looked to see if the dwarf prince needed instruction as he backed up allowing Thorin to set the pace. "Your education may have suffered, but your father's training is discernable."

"Father sparred with my brother and I nightly. Truth told, I was already almost through my basic warrior training when Smaug came." He started his retreat when Elrond suddenly reversed their positions and became the attacker. "I am catching up on my Sindarin with Erestor's tutelage."

"He claims you are quicker to train than the others." Elrond pressed faster and was pleased Thorin easily held him off.

"I may have learned more than I ever let on over the years," Thorin admitted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the human boy approaching. He was invited to dine every night he was mobile with the lord's immediate family. Their talking in Sindarin helped him catch on swiftly and he could converse on the boy's level. The youth asked him many questions and he found himself entertaining them with stories of what it was like to work non-stop for his kind. "Maybe I should take a turn with young Estel."

Elrond stopped swinging and motioned the boy to take his place.

With a quick grin, Estel, drew his sword and got into position.

"Put your sword away," Thorin ordered with a stern look.

The smile faded, but Estel did as instructed, but not without a questioning look to his adar.

Elrond smiled and nodded.

"You will not always have an opportunity to get in a sparring stance. You need to be able to draw your sword and be fighting as soon as it clears leather," Thorin instructed. "We will practice a few times. I want you to draw and block my attack."

"But I always am instructed on proper form," Estel protested.

"Oh, I thought you might like to learn a new technique," Thorin apologized with his tone and his eyes were dancing in laughter.

"I do," Estel protested and heard his foster father laughing.

Thorin slowly walked him through how to draw and block an attack up high and down low and they practiced until the dinner horn sounded.

At supper that night, Estel asked, "I want you to teach me more new ways of fighting, Prince Thorin?"

Gilraen shook her head, "You can't ask that of a guest or a prince, Estel."

He looked thoughtful and then at her, "Why not?"

"Why not?" Thorin echoed with a grin.

"It's not proper for a lad to ask anything of a grown man or a prince."

"In my culture, young dwarrowlads can ask an adult to assist with fighting. Most lads learn from their fathers or grandfathers. My father took me to the sparring arenas when I learned to walk. As the Crown Prince's son, I was allowed to ask any adult to fight with me. I guess having a title gave me privilege." He gave her a measured look. "Any boy who will grow up to be king should be exposed to more than a mere soldier."

Gilraen looked at Elrond in surprise.

Elrond and Erestor exchanged looks from opposite ends of the table.

' _Do you think he suspects Estel is our hidden king?'_ Erestor asked silently.

' _Possibly. Thorin is intelligent and sees how the boy is raised as my iôn. I doubt he will talk.'_

' _What will you do if he does?'_

Elrond looked somber. _'I don't know.'_

Silent conversation over, Erestor addressed Thorin, "We value all children and elflings equally. Every youngster who ever resided at Imladris is educated in Sindarin and Westron. Maybe you could teach Estel a few Khuzdul phrases."

"If he is willing." Thorin looked across the table at the boy, who smiled and nodded.

* * *

Thorin accepted the ale Elrond offered. It was late and other than elves singing in the Hall of Fire, only crickets could be heard on this warm night. He was sitting on a patio when he saw Elrond approach with ale and a glass of wine.

"I thank you for taking time for Estel," Elrond began. "He has been sheltered here and I'm taking him with us to Erebor on his first trip abroad. I haven't told him yet, but will in the morning, so if you hear shouts of excitement, ignore him."

Thorin nodded, "I remember my first trip when about his age. My father took me to the Iron Hills for a match between dwarflings. I think the first trip is the best."

"I told you of my first and second trips as an elfling. My brother and I resided in the elven camp for months as battles raged. Even as a youngster, I was fascinated with healing and found myself in the healing tents almost daily. I remember this young elven lord was badly burned and the Maiar worked personally on him almost nonstop. His father stayed by his side, even when ordered to return to the fighting. Finally one day I was walking among the wounded and saw the elf on the bed alone and approached. To my surprise, he looked almost normal. I saw him when his face was half burned away. Curiosity overcame manners and I approached and struck up a conversation. To my delight he was bored and ready to talk to anyone. He told me all about his injuries and the dragon who seared him with fire. After that day we became friends and in time he went to join his father on the front lines. I feared I would never see my newfound friend again, but at battle's end when we were fleeing away from coastal areas the Maiar said they were destroying with water, he came riding up on his horse and waved his sword to get my attention. It was my friend, Lord Thranduil. He became a prince when the Silvan elves crowned his father king over them."

The word, sword, jarred Thorin's memory and drew his sword and looked at the elvish runes. "I just found out this sword belonged to Erestor's father. I asked him if he desired it."

"What did he say?" Elrond asked softly as he took _Orcrist_. He quite forgot Erestor's father was owner, as it was so long ago in a land that no longer existed outside fable.

"He said he feared it would bring him the same luck as his father. He did hold it for a long time. If he ever wants it, I will relinquish ownership."

"Erestor was born on the long trail of sorrow to the Havens of Sirion after the fall of Gondolin. He has no connection with Gondolin and was just an elfling when his mother, my brother's and my nanny, was slaughtered in our bedchamber, so became an orphan and was placed under the care of Círdan to raise as his son. He chose to stay with me over Círdan, for which I'm grateful. When the lays of Ecthelion are sung, he will slip away, for he doesn't want to long for what he can't remember. In a way, I am the same. I don't care to listen to the lays of my parents, for they are painful." He handed the sword back. "If Erestor wanted the sword, he would have claimed it when it first came here. I doubt Mithrandir made the connection."

"I was worried I was stepping on his feelings. He mentioned it to me in the mountain, but I wanted to ask you. You said much as he did."

"Círdan gifted Erestor with the sword he welds today on his hundredth begetting day. It means more to him than _Orcrist._ " Elrond smiled in memory. "If I were offered my father's sword or _Hadhafang_ , the sword I inherited when the High King was killed; I would take the one I carry. You formed a bond with _Orcrist_ and it belongs to you. Sometimes I think swords choose their masters. It always came back to you."

Thorin sheathed the fine sword. "Legolas doesn't agree." He laughed with Elrond.

"Speaking of things coming to you, are you prepared for the influx of dwarrowlasses your father is throwing at you?"

Thorin shuddered and Elrond grinned. "I think he is under the spell of Sauron and has evil in his heart."

"Or wants the best for you. Are there any in the dwarves that will be here in a few days?"

Thorin looked at him in surprise. "You know they are close?"

"I know all who enters my realm, friend or foe. Glorfindel told me. I haven't felt them as of yet."

"He is on patrol. Did he send a bird?" Thorin sounded confused.

Elrond chuckled softly. "We can communicate over distances silently. It is a gift of the Valar to the firstborn."

"So you talked with each other that way while in the meeting?" Thorin asked and took a swig of ale.

"Fraid it comes as naturally to us as breathing to you." Elrond directed the conversation to where he wanted it to go. "Will there be dwarrowlasses in the group you will lead to Erebor." At Thorin's glare, he grinned and added, "I don't want to be far from you should you provide me with entertainment."

Thorin snorted, "I'm sure all available lasses will be in the first group. I can think of two or three who have their sights set on me or Dwalin. Too bad my sister, Dis, is bonded. She would be the perfect mate to Dwalin."

"I thought I heard a rumor circulating among the Durin's that her bond is fading." The voice spoke from the dark and Erestor stepped into the light of a nearby gas lamp.

"You heard correct. I don't know if Father will allow her to re-wed, should she lose all connection. It might not settle well with lords of other clans. Durin's are supposed to set higher standards."

"Even if two dwarves love each other?" Erestor queried. "Oh, I heard much during my time in the mountain. It seems common knowledge that Dwalin loves your sister."

"It's a love she might not be able to return and I don't want either hurt."

"Are you going to speak with your father?" Erestor pressed, while Elrond absorbed this new piece of information.

Thorin looked down and mumbled, "Only if I must. I'm hoping a lass catches Dwalin's eye."

Elrond and Erestor looked at each other over Thorin's head.

"And if her bond is gone and she loves Dwalin in return. Would you give your blessing?" Elrond asked softly.

Thorin looked up at the tall elves. "If Mahal wishes it, I will fight all the lords who would object and slander my sister's honor. There is a term for dwarrowdams that give themselves to another dwarf. _O-zalafaurkhas,_ which means devil dam. I would not want my sister to be referred in that manner."

"I've heard that term," Elrond acknowledged and Erestor nodded his head that he too was familiar with it. "Durin IV was visiting and told us he was having issues with several dams straying in their bond and seducing other dwarves. He said when he returned to Khazad-dûm, he was going to have them singled out and publically executed along with their paramours. The husbands would be given first chance to carry out the executions. Word reached us he did just that and we haven't heard of any _O-zalafaurkhas'_ since that time."

Thorin nodded. "That is a favorite story to keep young dwarrow in line. There have been two cases in the mountain and both were handled swiftly. It is fortunately rare and most bonding's produce love and a lasting relationship."

"Glorfindel is back," Elrond suddenly stated and felt his fëa at the landing. They moved across a foot bridge and down a set of steps to the right of the mains stairs that led to the House of Elrond. Elrond saw the landing empty and veered to the stables. He found his warrior seneschal brushing Asfaloth while the horse munched on corn mixed with apples.

Glorfindel smiled at them. "I placed a stone on the last bridge telling the twins I am aware they are close. They will be here in four days and crossed the bridge four days ago. I was waiting in our usual meeting place and they are bored…" He started to say something else, but stopped and smiled. "Did you leave me any wine?"

"And why are my iôns bored?" Elrond didn't miss the pause, but figured he didn't want to say something in front of Thorin.

"The slow pace of the dwarves and the fact the closest they got to earning their keep on the trip was near Amon Sûl. A band of men saw the dwarves in Bree telling men that Erebor was open for business and Dale needed farmers and merchants and to spread the word. Fili and Kili were with the dwarves and noticed several looking at their money pouches when they bought supplies, so were on the lookout for trouble." Done grooming his horse, he led the way towards the house.

"Don't leave us there," Erestor ordered.

"I'm getting wine for my parched throat and will finish while soaking in a bath," Glorfindel replied, knowing his audience was itching to hear the rest.

Inside the door, Figwit met them.

"Take his pack and have the servants bring wine to the bathing chambers," Elrond instructed. As Figwit took the bag, Elrond responded silently, _'And bring clean clothes for the one who smells like a horse.'_ He looked down at Thorin. "Come, the servants will bring you either ale or wine, but I'm sure you want to hear the rest of this."

"I sure do," Thorin stated and kept pace up the stairs to Elrond's family wing.

Soaking to his chin, Glorfindel sipped the fine wine. "At Amon Sûl or Weathertop in Westron, a large band of robbers attacked the middle of the caravan. The guards they saw were at the front or rear. They saw youngsters and had a plan to take a few and exchange them for gold. I would have loved to been sitting on the hill watching. They rode horses at a gallop and started snagging little dwarflings who were playing along the wagons. Screams from the youngsters alerted the wagon drivers and all were armed of course. Dwarves abandoned the wagons and attacked with swords, while one blew a horn, warning of attack. Elladan and Elrohir by that time in their scouting duties picked up the trail of fresh horses and were tracking from behind the men. Needless to say, the men were quite surprised when two fully armed elves flew off Amon Sûl in their direction. Before they could recoup, six were dead with arrows in them. The twins had to stop because the others had a dwarfling and they didn't want to harm the little ones. The men tried to mount an escape, but by then were surrounded by hundreds of angry dwarves, all brandishing weapons and shouting insults and death threats."

"I hope my boys didn't get a little one harmed," Elrond lamented and placed a hand over his eyes. He knew the love of the hunt sometimes overrode their common sense.

Glorfindel smiled and held his empty glass out for Figwit to refill. After instructing others what was needed, Figwit personally saw to Glorfindel's needs. "They rode up to the men and Elladan asked in a voice loud enough for all to hear and it went quiet. 'Why did you do something so foolish?'"

"The leader, who was holding a dwarfling, replied, 'We'll let them go unharmed for a few pouches of gold.'"

"Elladan looked around and smiled back to the men. 'I am going to shoot an arrow through your eye. Someone catch the little one. When I shoot, all elves, take your target and kill the men, but don't harm anything in their arms.'"

"The man looked around, 'I don't see any other elves except the one who looks like you. Do all elves look alike?'"

"'He's bluffing,' another man called out just as Elladan put an arrow through the man's eye and Elrohir did likewise to another. The air filled with arrows and all men had an arrow protruding from their eyes. Parents rushed in to collect shaken dwarflings while the elves scouted for more robbers. I don't have to tell you how disappointed your iôns were, but it did liven their day up. That night they increased the guards and they are still at greater numbers in the wilds. I scouted from the last bridge through the passes and didn't feel anything foul. My bet is they are still gathering on the other side of the mountain."

"To attack Erebor again?" Thorin asked.

Glorfindel handed his empty glass to Figwit. "Sauron for some reason feels threatened by the Lonely Mountain. Could be something from there is part of his demise. Sauron has some foresight."

As Thorin, Elrond and Erestor pondered Glorfindel's prediction; the golden elf slid under the water and swam to the deep end of the bathing pool to wash.


	19. 19 Kingdom Divided Pt 1

While Thorin settled on a comfortable bed with sleep slow to take him, knowing he would see his sister and nephews shortly, Thráin, was also having a sleepless night. Sitting before a fire in his bedchamber, he reached for the book he was reading. He let his mind wander back to a night like this in Dol Guldur. The cold would finally shake from the cells and he wouldn't be curled into a ball to protect what little heat he generated. No, he could finally stretch out and listen for a rat to supplement his stale, wormy bread. Shaking the morose thought, he opened the book to the marker.

 _Kingdom Divided_

 _We could all feel shock to Elrond's fëa that had Glorfindel flying up the long flight of steps and Celebrían down a flight of stone stairs and into her husband's study. I, Erestor, didn't have to take a step because I was seated before my lord when he opened a letter from Fornost. I wanted to jump up and race around the large desk and was half out of my chair when Elrond's hand rose indicating he was fine. Still I went and poured him a long stemmed glass of wine just as Celebrían entered, ready to face the foe that was fighting her husband. A pace behind, Glorfindel blew by her to Elrond's side._

 _Laying a comforting hand on a tense shoulder, he asked, "Are we at war?"_

 _Elrond shook his head. "Let me finish and then I'll read aloud. You might want wine for what I'm going to impart." He threw me a look. "Thank you, bruin meldir."_

 _We drew drinks and seated Celebrían directly across from him and flanked her chair with our own._

 _Elrond downed his glass and shook his head when I offered a refill. We noticed fëas from the house were dampened and I hoped it was news I could impart to them. "_

 _I'll just read the letter," Elrond stated_

 _"Lord Elrond,  
It is with sad heart I must tell you of the passing of my father, King Eärendur. I would like to say he died in bed surrounded by his loving family, but even before he drew his last breath, my brothers Avenlan and Valandur were plotting to wrest the kingdom from me. A short Civil War was waged throughout the kingdom, making travel very dangerous. I didn't have the forces to win the war; so in the name of preserving lives, I called a truce with my brother's and agreed to split the northern kingdom. Arnor is no more. I couldn't bear the shame of keeping the name when I failed my forebears and lost two thirds of it, so renamed my much smaller kingdom, Arthedain.  
_

 _Luckily the war was in summer and we didn't fight in the freezing cold and watch our brave soldiers starve. However, I wasn't able to carry on with my father's contract when I lost some of the lands we grew your grain upon. I would hope my brothers are honorable enough to contact you directly and make provisions so you don't suffer because of us. I know you were expecting wagons filled with grain and when I tried to get riders through the fighting to you; all were killed. It wasn't until the ceasefire was called and contracts agreed upon were my messengers able to inform Imladris, Gondor and the Havens; although I'm sure Lord Círdan knew.  
My children are doing fine and my son, Beleg, is my right hand, both in battle and stewardship. I have to pay tribute to get wagons to you now, so if you wish to not have a contract with me as you did my father, I understand. I will always remember my visits to Imladris with fondness._

 _Regards,  
King Amlaith_

 _P.S. I am keeping my birth name and not taking a Quenya name. It is not intended to be a slight to elves."_

 _Elrond set the letter down and let his eyes hold with his eternal mate for a long moment. They were speaking, but dampened so we couldn't eavesdrop. "It would kill me should our children ever fight," Elrond stated aloud._

 _We felt Celebrían's fëa reach out to his. "As long as I am their naneth, I will never allow it."_

 _Elrond tried to smile, but we could tell the letter greatly upset him. He pulled himself together and subdued his hurting fëa. "I am not waiting to hear from the lesser brothers. Amlaith is the rightful king. I blame this on their father, Eärendur. We all noticed he liked to pit his son's against the other, using the reasoning should the eldest die; he didn't want a son not capable of ruling. He turned all three into kings."_

" _How will you deal with Avenlan and Valandur?" I asked and everyone looked at me and then Elrond. I mentally called for Eárthellon and when he immediately appeared, I motioned to the wine carafe. I suspected he was loitering outside the door should he be needed._

" _Maybe I should make the first move," Elrond threw out. He rose and thanked Eárthellon and told him to stay. Taking his glass, he moved to the window overlooking a beautiful patio lined with trees and the late fall flowers were in bloom. He turned to Eárthellon, "Please bring the messenger from Fornost here."_

" _Are we taking our warriors and paying them a visit?" Glorfindel did the formality of asking, but we could guess that was Elrond's intent._

" _I don't want to invite them here and have fighting break out." Elrond confirmed our suspicions._

" _I think that is a wonderful idea," Celebrían added and we looked at her and I'm sure we all had suspicion in our eyes._

" _You're not going," Elrond thundered as a tap came upon the door. "Enter," he yelled aloud, deviating from his normal silent summonses._

 _Eárthellon and a Dúnedain entered. The man was still damp._

" _Did I take you from your bath?" Elrond asked._

" _No, my lord, I was loitering in the warm bathing pool. I've never been in that much warm water before and was quite reluctant to leave." He accepted the glass of wine Eárthellon handed him._

" _What is your name?" I asked and he looked at me._

" _I am called, Tarcel. I am a captain in King Amlaith's regiments."_

" _Tell us about the Civil War?" Elrond quietly commanded and we motioned for our guest to join us on comfortable furniture placed before the roaring fire. I noticed Tarcel sat close to the fire._

 _In compacted sentences he filled us in._

" _Is it safe now?" Glorfindel asked. "And by that I mean for women and children."_

" _We will be keeping our women and children far from the borders for now. King Amlaith ordered them all to winter in Fornost. We are in need of blankets and cloth for swaddling the infants. We could use dry fruit to make cereal for the babies. Those are our needs. I was not sent to beg, but I would not refuse any donations."_

" _Would you please make us a list," Celebrían requested._

 _We watched as the man for the first time looked fully upon her beauty. We watched him swallow several times before nodding._

' _You owe me three gold coins,' Glorfindel gloated in our minds. I was glad the man missed all the elves in the room suddenly swiveling heads to the golden warrior._

' _Just once, I would like to see an Eldar, Edain or Dwarf not react like a smitten adolescent when first gazing upon our lady's beauty,' I tartly replied silently and fished into my pocket._

 _Elrond threw us both glares and started talking, taking Tarcel's eyes off his uncontrollable seneschals._

 _Celebrían looked amused._

* * *

 _The_ _Dúnedain left the following day with his small entourage laden with letters and instructions to have all three brothers in Fornost when Elrond arrived._ _Two weeks later we crossed the Bruinen and pointed our horses' noses west. Several pack horses were led by servants while the warriors protected the three elleth. Always excited and in search of adventure, Elladan and Elrohir raced ahead on the guise of scouting. Far from the turmoil, Elrond and Glorfindel let them have their lead. When we reached Weathertop, all would change and our young warriors would be under strict orders to guard their naneth and sister._

 _I let my mind drift to the night after our meeting with Tarcel the Dúnedain. In the family chambers an all-out fight was ensuing and I didn't want to miss a moment._

" _Arwen and I are going, Elrond. We can fight and besides, I wish to see for myself all is well with your brother's progeny."_

" _That's a low blow," Elrond ground out in anger. "I will bring you a full report, complete with letters and quilting samples from the household of Amlaith."_

" _I plan on visiting, but not draining their strained provisions," Celebrían replied as if Elrond hadn't spoken. "I think descending on Círdan after ascertaining their needs is better and we can make it before winter solstice if we don't dawdle. I will need a new gown for the formal dinner that will be thrown in our honor. You can wear what I made for you last year, meleth-nín." Done with her part of the argument, Celebrían mentally shouted, 'ARWEN, come here.'_

 _Elrond looked stunned. "Who is in charge around here?"_

" _You are meleth-nín. You, however, do not control me. We have an equal partnership or I go home to naneth for a hundred years."_

" _I accept," Elrond snarled just as Arwen joined us._

" _We need to look at every gown in your armoire." Celebrían ignored Elrond's outburst. "You will be scrutinized for your hair pieces down to your footwear. When we enter a room, you will be on your Adar's left arm and I the right."_

 _Elrond stopped his buildup to another reason his ladies shouldn't go and smiled with glee. "I will be as envied as Celeborn was." He stalked to his wife and took her hands. "Someday, you must share your secret to getting your own way."_

 _Celebrían patted his chest. "It's no secret you love showing us off. If there was danger, I'm sure naneth will have foreseen and contacted you."_

 _Elrond noticed I was standing quietly. "Are you so caught up, you have nothing better to do than enjoy me being manipulated effortlessly?"_

 _I actually grinned at his apt reading of the situation and handed a piece of paper to Celebrían. "Tarcel made you a list."_

 _Elrond snatched it from my hand just as Celebrían reached for it. "I will see to this. You and our daughter have much to do."_

 _By the several horses packing personal items; I surmised the ladies packed their entire wardrobes._

* * *

 _A horn sounded announcing the arrival of elves. Lindir put his harp down and rushed to the window. He assumed some mishap met with his lord and lady's party and they were returning, but turned white when the banner of Celeborn fluttered in the breeze. "Oh sweet Elbereth I'm not ready for this responsibility." He ran from the room, uncaring his robes were skewed as he ran down the long steps to be at the landing, although he knew they would be waiting for him._

 _Celeborn looked around at the few elves gathering and bowing. He tried to remember if there was a time he came across that bridge where someone in charge wasn't already bowing and offering greetings by the time his horse stopped. He looked at the young elf skidding to a stop and bowing. 'Elrond better have a good explanation,' he silently told Galadriel._

" _My lord and lady, we did not know you were paying us a visit and this late in the year." Lindir tried to keep his voice from exhibiting anxiety._

 _Celeborn dismounted and reached a hand to his wife. She accepted and flawlessly stepped to the stone. Gliding to Lindir, she looked into his mind. "Our children are gone."_

 _Lindir heard the order in the great lord's tone as he demanded an explanation. It was the first time directed at him and he was sure he was going to faint until Galadriel came to his rescue._

" _Lindir, you are in charge?"_

 _Lindir bobbed his head. "Lord Elrond felt I was ready for the challenge of managing Imladris. Of course, everyone already knows their duties, so I'm more of a figurehead."_

 _Galadriel smiled. "Are we to be kept from the house?"_

 _Lindir felt his face turn scarlet and heard laughter behind him from the warriors Elrond left behind. He gestured with his hand and led the way up the steps. Inside he gave orders to prepare their customary chambers and lay out towels for the baths._

" _We will join you in the Hall for supper," Galadriel instructed and he watched her fingers settle on her mate's and he lead her up the stairs to their rooms. As soon as they were out of sight, he ran to the kitchens._

* * *

"… _.and they left two weeks ago," Lindir finished his story while they ate. He noticed Celeborn sat in Elrond's place at the head of the table and Galadriel where Celebrían always sat._

 _Celeborn looked at his wife. "Do we stay here for the winter and eat Elrond's provender or go on to the Havens?"_

" _You have to ask?" She questioned and accepted a blueberry desert._

" _When do you want to leave?" Celeborn shoved a mouthful of the delicious desert into his mouth._

" _I should think one night in the comfort of a bed will tide me over until we reach Círdan's."_

" _So we're not detouring to Fornost?" Celeborn wanted to make sure of the plans._

" _I think Elrond can handle his kin. We will surprise them in Lindon."_

 _Lindir tried to hide his relief, but Celeborn looked at him and smirked. "I didn't know we were that horrible of guests."_

" _I don't think you realize just who you are," Lindir admitted. "You are the hero of a hundred battles and your lady the daughter of the High King. You might think you are one of us, but we don't forget you are blessed by the Valar."_

" _And I thought we were cursed by them," Celeborn muttered and stood. He held his hand out to escorted his lady to their private chambers. He paused and addressed Verthenwë, who was also at their table, "We leave at first light. Make ready."_

* * *

" _There can only be one line of the king," Elrond stated formally and looked at the three kings before him. "I will do business with your realms; however, I only recognize the line of King Amlaith. It is through his line that a king will come to reunite the southern and northern kingdoms. Should his line end, King Avenlan, your heirs will be recognized._

" _What about my line?" Valandur challenged._

" _I doubt I will have to search that far down, but keep your linage intact and inform me when a son is born." Elrond saw the young king's brow darken._

" _What if I refuse to allow elves on the Great East Road," Valandur bellicosely replied._

 _Elrond smiled as if he made a great joke. "Then I will send General Glorfindel and my army and your line will end with you and your son."_

 _Valandur looked down the table at Glorfindel, who smiled exactly as Elrond at him. "You wouldn't kill me?"_

" _I've killed many who act like you," Glorfindel responded and didn't let the smile waver, but his eyes meant business._

 _Valandur wisely shut up._

 _Elrond looked at the contract before him. "If you go to war against the forces of Sauron; and you will; maybe not in your lifetimes, but future generations will and my help comes at a price."_

 _They all looked at him and waited for another chink to appear in their iron-clad contract._

" _I suggest each kingdom provide a third of the grains I require. We also get fruit like your father contracted with me. You must all be in agreement or I will not deal with any of you. You like my coin and if I withdraw from a contract; I'm sure Lord Círdan will also withdraw any trade he has with you. Your best customers might be orcs and trolls."_

" _I don't like the way you are treating us, Lord Elrond," the quiet King Avenlan spoke up. When Elrond pierced him with a cold grey stare, he faltered slightly. "What I mean is, I didn't realize all the trade our father did with elves. If my brother, Valandur, agrees with Amlaith for your supplies, I will agree to one third and give elves access through our lands."_

" _Toll free access." Elrond reminded him who was holding all the weapons._

 _Avenlan looked miserable, but nodded._

 _Elrond turned his steel gaze to Valandur. "Do you agree?"_

" _I don't have a choice, do I?"_

" _Since you're the youngest brother and expendable; I would say no," Elrond patiently stated._

 _When Valandur nodded, Elrond looked down at the contract and back to them. "I will have Lord Erestor write four new copies of the contract for us to sign. He rose, "King Amlaith, a word in private."_

 _Glorfindel silently rose and followed, shadowing, but not intrusive._

" _How did you do it, Lord Elrond?" Amlaith asked. "I couldn't get either to budge and had my steward write everyone's demands with the name of which realm was making the request."_

 _They were walking along a path in Fornost and the first snow blanketed the ground, silencing the sounds of the city. Elrond looked at the sky. More storm clouds were gathering in the west along the distant Blue Mountains. "You did notice I didn't take you to task for anything you requested?"_

" _I'm sure my brother's made note also."_

" _You let me deal with them. They now know who I consider Elros' heir. They don't want war with elves on two fronts. We will leave in the morning and go on to the Havens. I just hope the ladies are done visiting."_

 _Amlaith chuckled. "I wasn't sure my brother's would bring their wives and children. Tell you the truth, I set our sleeping arrangement just to avoid them. I don't need a bunch of brainless chatterboxes stealing my concentration right now."_

 _Elrond grinned, "You notice I haven't exactly demanded to see my wife this week also. I will get an update on how the ladies comported themselves when back on the road."_

" _Your son's have been conspicuous by their absence," Amlaith noted. As a youngster, he was in awe of the twins when he visited Imladris._

 _Again Elrond smiled broadly. "I issued an ultimatum; guard the ladies or return home. I will cut them loose when we reach the Havens. They will visit their friends and every tavern on both sides of the river while I sit in boring meetings."_

 _I glanced up when Elrond, Glorfindel and Amlaith entered from the cold. "I'm on the last copy," I issued my report. The door opened again and Avenlan and Valandur hustled in. Everyone seated themselves while servants placed wine and cheese on the table. I realized it was mid-afternoon and we were now just breaking the fast. My hand flew over parchment and I shoved the last copy to Eárthellon to proof. He was my aid during the talks, and Glorfindel assisted Elrond._

 _Copies were handed to the three kings and Elrond. He skimmed the copy and placed his signature boldly at the bottom and passed it to Amlaith to add his name under his. Soon all four copies were signed and in the possession of the kings. Elrond rolled his copy and tied a black ribbon around it and tossed it end over end down the table to me. I effortlessly caught it and inside my grey robe it went._

 _Taking our leave, we rode from Fornost south on the highway with snow gently falling in large flakes. Amlaith bade us stay, but we couldn't impose any longer and deplete their meager supplies. Elrond was in a hurry to reach Mithlond and arrange for Círdan to send wagons. We no sooner were out of sight when twin snowballs hit Elrond in the back. He whirled his steed just as his son's let loose a second volley that smashed against the armor covering his chest._

" _That's for making us stay with women and children for a week," Elladan roared._

" _Don't ever do that to us again," Elrohir screamed in rage._

 _Elrond laughed, along with those close enough to witness. "Now I know how to punish you two when your pranking becomes unbearable." Elrond spun his horse back around and with Celebrían between him and Glorfindel and Arwen riding between her brothers and just behind, Lindis between me and Eárthellon, we led our band south at a lope. The twins hoisted our banners and the few peasants we passed saluted them with shouts of thanks for the little bit of supplies we provided that was rapidly dispersed to the needy._

" _It was the first time the sisters-in-law were together since the war," Celebrían began and we quieted down to listen. "At first they were formal until Amlaith's daughter entered the room with her newborn daughter; the first grandchild."_

" _She was adorable," Arwen spoke up. "It seems, Chalaith, was caught with her boyfriend in a compromising way and had to marry."_

 _Celebrían smirked at Elrond and he frowned back. "Arwen is correct and the baby was born just before we arrived. I'm so happy I had the foresight to pack baby gifts. That broke the ice and before long, the ladies were holding the baby and giving the young mother advice."_

" _They all asked Naneth of her vast experience," Arwen added. "She told stories of when all three of us were infants."_

" _She dredged up the one about El and me having to sit the squirt here," Elrohir complained._

" _You only did it for three hours a day so your daernaneth and I could oversee the running of the house," their mother reminded them. Besides, I was still confined to our chambers because Arwen wasn't an easy birth either."_

 _Elrond reached over and grasped her hand for a quick moment. "Meleth-nín, you escaped as much as your iôns. How many times did I escort you back up those stairs?"_

" _I stayed put until after Winter Solstice," Celebrían complained. "I had to oversee your iôns begetting day meal the next month."_

" _I could have done that," Elrond snarled. "If they wanted something special, they could learn to cook instead of ordering our hard-working staff."_

" _Anyway," Celebrían got back to her week, "they started talking about the war and how horrible it was and they never wanted another and hoped you men were doing the right thing for your people."_

" _I was holding the baby and she started rooting around on me trying to nurse," Arwen said quietly to her brothers, but not silently enough, for her father twisted his head around and gave her a stern look._

" _Stay away from babies."_

 _We all laughed._

 _Elladan leaned over and didn't try to keep his voice down. "You can't go near ellon and now babies. Next you won't be allowed near your horse or us."_

 _We heard Arwen and Elrohir laughing and struggled not to join in, but our lord was running out of patience with his sons and their teasing and it was evident by his stiff posture._

" _I told of the history of Elros' line and the few splits and times when the line ended and was picked up by a nephew," Celebrían continued, ignoring her offspring. "I then showed them where they fit into the history of Middle Earth."_

" _And where were you, iôns-nín?" Elrond cast a glance behind him._

" _In the hall playing guard," Elrohir threw back._

" _We weren't sitting in a room full of women drinking tea and holding babies," Elladan added._

" _At night, the boys slept on the floor in the sitting chamber and let us have the two beds," Celebrían came to her sons' defense. "And I know for a fact, one was on guard at all times. I woke several times to one or the other sitting up and playing with their knives."_

" _It was boring, Naneth." Elladan threw pleading in his tone that always worked on her. "The only time we got out was when we escorted you and Arwen around the city on a tour."_

 _Elrond whipped his head in his wife's direction and I hoped he didn't hurt his neck. "You did gather some of our warriors for this outing?"_

" _I may have seen Keine and asked for backup. Anyway, he found a dozen, who spread out before and after us."_

 _Elrond shook his head at Elladan's vague report._

" _I missed you, meleth-nín," Celebrían murmured to Elrond, subduing his anger. "So what was King Amlaith's reasoning for keeping all women from their men?"_

" _Amlaith didn't want his brother's or their guards in his home. He arranged lodging in an inn."_

" _After our stroll, which was done on purpose looking for you. I didn't call out lest I disturb you."_

" _That would have been welcome. Listening to three youngsters bicker for a week has wearied me. I look forward to a vacation in the Havens and will buy supplies from Círdan for next year. I'll wait and see if they can work together in meeting our needs and told them as much."_


	20. 20 Kingdom Divided Pt 2

_Elrond stopped before the guard who was standing rigid, lance pointing to the stars, at the entrance to his tent. "That will be all, Keine."_

" _My lord, I'm on duty until two," Keine protested._

" _I will guard my wife. You may stand in front of my children's tent and have your relief positioned thus."_

 _Keine bowed his head and stepped the short distance to another tent, longing for the hours to pass and he could lie down in his assigned tent and out of the dropping temperatures. By the time he turned with his back to his assigned tent, Elrond was already inside his own._

 _Elrond pulled the ties together against the night chill. There was a lamp on a low table by the bed giving off just enough light for him to walk across the tent to a pile of furs in the center of the area. "I almost feel guilty for not allowing Arwen to sleep in comfort with us."_

 _Celebrían lifted a fur and Elrond's eyes popped open in surprise. "She is old enough to rough it with her brothers. I've longed for the day we could once again make love while traveling."_

 _Elrond fumbled with his frozen buckles, mentally cursing them slowing his efforts to disrobe. Finally he slid in between sheets and noticed she positioned the heavy bear skin on top._

 _As he reached for her, she squeaked and then laughed softly. "It's been far too long since I felt your body as cold as spring melt in the Bruinen." Her hands stroked over his chest and push lightly until he was on his back and she straddled him._

 _I, Erestor, was not present, but Elrond sadistically told me for the story when I asked why he had Arwen sleeping with her brothers when we left Fornost. Actually he stopped with Celebrían settling on him and wouldn't divulge another detail no matter how much Glorfindel threatened and I pleaded he couldn't leave that section missing the most important part. Anyway, back to the story._

 _I was sitting by a dying fire the next morning and Glorfindel was saddling our horses and receiving reports from the night watches. I made a cup of tea for him when I saw him hurry in my direction with our horses. Taking the cup he looked at two tents not disturbed. The others were already broken down and placed on pack horses._

" _Keine told me an interesting snippet of news." Glorfindel stopped to drink his tea. He pointed to the twin's tent. "Arwen has been banished to that tent."_

 _Before I could accuse Keine of fibbing, the flap opened and Arwen stepped out. Seeing us, she smiled and hurried over._

" _Did your adar ban you from your naneth?" Glorfindel cheerfully asked while I made her tea._

" _I think they wanted time alone after being away from each other all week," Arwen truthfully answered._

 _Glorfindel winked at me and asked, "Did you stay up with your brother's playing word games and they are still slumbering?"_

" _The part about us being awake was correct. When Keine went to wake his replacement, the El's slipped out and went on the prowl. They are not meant to be kept inside for so long. They heard a wolf howl in the distance and I'm sure they will return with a pelt."_

 _Glorfindel's smile dropped and I knew that wasn't a good sign. "Why didn't you come to our tent, pen neth?"_

" _Because at my age, I am very capable of tenting alone. Besides, nobody here will attack us."_

" _I wish Elrond insisted your maid accompany you this trip," I inserted. "That way, you could tent with an elleth."_

" _I swear you two are suffocating me as much as Adar and Naneth. My brothers know that sometimes I need my freedom. I have decided to start patrolling with them just to spread my wings."_

 _I could see that even Glorfindel was stunned. He recovered first. "Not as long as I am alive. Should you wish freedom, I will take you and teach you as I did them."_

" _I accept," Arwen stately ended the conversation when she reached for warm Lembas the servants were handing out from a fur lined bag to keep them thus._

 _I didn't bother to hide my grin at Glorfindel for being so easily out maneuvered._

 _The last tent still erected was quiet and I wondered if they didn't steal off with their sons in the night. Glorfindel rose and patted Arwen's shoulder as he ambled to their tent. We heard him raise his voice. "If I come in, will Celebrían do to me what she did to you?"_

 _There was general laughter around the camp at his words and the flap was parted revealing a fully armored Elrond that stepped into the morning sun, looking around in surprise. "I must have been tired. I didn't wake until I heard Arwen's voice." He strode to our fire and grabbed the mug of tea I had waiting. "What is this I hear about your brother's abandoning you?"_

" _Adar, I slept just fine alone. You know they aren't housetrained. That goes double for their tent. They had weapons position all around and told me not to move anything. It was a relief when they gathered everything up and left."_

 _Celebrían joined us with a smile that lifted our spirits. I quickly poured her tea with her Lembas. "I have confidence in you, Arwen. You will do just fine on your own."_

" _Thank you, Naneth," Arwen basked in her mother's support. "I am serious about exploring like my brother's do."_

" _And you should," Celebrían encouraged. "Why I explored all of Lórien and had adventures with your daernaneth and some without." She glanced at Elrond, who was grinding his teeth._

" _We're packed," Elrond announced and stalked to gather his horse and those for the elleth just as Elladan and Elrohir joined us. Sure enough each had a wolf hide rolled and draped over their saddle horns._

" _What beautiful colors," Celebrían exclaimed as we gathered around._

 _Elladan unrolled his first and we saw a silver pelt._

 _Elrohir followed and his was black with silver mixed throughout. "We need new rugs by our beds."_

 _Elrond, on his horse, joined us and we took the hint and mounted. I tossed Lembas to the twins and mounted._

" _Are you two done thinking of yourselves only?" Elrond snapped._

" _Adar, we wouldn't have left should foe be about," Elladan protested._

" _I'll ride you hard enough today that tonight you will sleep like elflings," Elrond promised and set a grueling pace through the snow, daring any to fall behind._

* * *

 _We were in the gentle hill country of fertile soil just west of Bree two days later. Elrond didn't stop in the quaint town of men, but several kids stood on the hill above the town and watched us plow through snow. Twenty miles west of Bree we topped a hill and Elrond pulled his mount to a stop with a raised hand._

 _Before us lay dead soldiers of men. It was a battle so recent; blood was still spreading in the snow. We all made ready and were surprised at Glorfindel's revelation._

" _Those are Galadhrim arrows. Elves are fighting men."_

 _We looked closer and they were of Lothlórien design and color._

 _Elrond kicked his mount in the sides and we picked through the bodies to the next hill where tracks plainly led. Before we crested the rise, we could hear sounds of battle. Drawing weapons, we hurried to see how the battle went for our elven friends._

 _Elrond shouted, all the elleth remain here. Erestor sound for battle and let….," we paused on top of the hill and watched the battle rage and saw that men outnumbered elves. "let Celeborn know we are here."_

 _We lined our horses abreast and drew weapons. I noticed as I placed my horn to my lips, those with bows were already picking their targets. Sounding the call to battle, I let Celeborn know he had reinforcements. I was happy Elrond traveled with a hundred of his best warriors this trip._

 _A volley of arrows filled the air and each found a mark. The men turned to face us and I looked for the lord and lady of the Galadhrim. Galadriel was on the next hill watching, but not helping. I later asked her why she didn't use her powers and she said, it would harm all equally._

 _Elrond should have known his wife couldn't be controlled. Celebrían spotted her mother and looked at the only elleth to make this winter trip, Arwen and Lindis. "Let's circle the battle and join my naneth." As soon as they left the covering of trees they were spotted and men cried in delight that they had females to abuse._

 _Celeborn heard the horn and figured Elrond caught up with them. The snows slowed them down and traveling through areas heavy with the feel of war and death dampened fëas to the point the men were upon them before they sorted spirit from flesh. Hundreds of men surrounded them; some on mounts and most on foot. They spotted Galadriel and Celeborn saw one lick thick lips in anticipation of a turn between her legs. His head rolled off broad shoulders and without dialogue Celeborn attacked. His goal was to fight through this bunch and flee before the others reached them through the knee deep snow. He broke through easily and topped the hill into the main army. Yelling at Galadriel and Azthêla to get to safety, he ordered his Galadhrim to show no mercy. It was like slaughtering slow cattle, but they kept attacking, even standing upon their dead to gain height. He welcomed the sound of approaching elves._

 _The twins expended their arrows and jumped off their mounts to face their foe who were on foot as did the rest of Elrond's army for none wanted an injured mount. Elrohir grabbed a young, frightened kid of about twenty and raised his sword. The youth knew he was dying this day and blackness sent him to oblivion. "Don't kill the young ones, El," he shouted. "They haven't had time amass enough regrets for fond memories in their old age." A seasoned warrior saw the elf take the butt of his sword to his son and with a cry of rage attacked. He managed one swing and lay in the snow beside his unconscious son; only he was bleeding from a stab through his heart._

 _Fighting died down and a man was yelling for his men to lay down their weapons. He cautiously approached Celeborn, who now had the leader of the other band of elves at his side. "Why did you attack us?" He asked._

" _I didn't like the way your men were looking at my wife," Celeborn tersely replied._

" _Our army was ordered to stay in this area in case talks failed and we had to fight some more," the man who appeared to be leader spoke._

" _Who are you?" Elrond asked and mentally shouted for his healers to assist with injured. He saw Celeborn was giving no such order to his healers and snapped in Celeborn's mind, 'It won't hurt us to give aid.'_

 _Celeborn motioned with a hand, while keeping his gaze fixed upon the man._

" _I am Lord Angus, father-in-law to King Avenlan and General of his army. We haven't been home in months and Bree is off limits per our king. Our men meant no disrespect."_

" _I don't believe you," Celeborn immediately replied. "I have eyes."_

 _Elrond looked around and saw me standing just behind him, "Give me the contract and go see to my lady. She was knocked off her horse by these men who were showing respect. She was forced to kill several, as did Arwen and Lindis." He turned back to Angus. "If my wife or daughter suffers so much as a broken nail, I am going to kill you."_

 _Celeborn raised his sword that was still dripping blood, "I'll kill him for his men attacking my daughter." He didn't swing when Elrond placed a hand on his arm. "Celebrían told me she and Arwen are fine, just shaken. That alone might make me go to war against Cardolan." He saw a question in Celeborn's eyes and mentally added, 'I'll tell you tonight.'_

 _As I hurried to do my lord's bidding, I spotted Glorfindel on Asfaloth sitting on a hill surveying the battle. The twins were back on their horses and beside him. He was pointing things out and explaining. Warriors were pulling arrows from dead and injured men so we wouldn't be defenseless for the remainder of the trip._

 _I found Celebrían with her mother and greeted the lady before turning my attention to the daughter. "Elrond needs to know if he should kill King Avenlan's father-in-law for his soldiers daring to attack you, Lindis and Arwen?"_

" _This is not the first time I've been in a scrape and Elrond and my adar don't need to be making more enemies. There is one thing you can do for us." She handed a bloody Hadhafang2 to me. "It needs to be cleaned thoroughly. You know, Erestor, I never intended to do more with it than please Elrond by wearing it when we travel."_

 _Taking the sword, I reached for Lindis' and Arwen's and hurried off to find our elves in charge of cleaning weapons and arrows. A short distance from the men, our elves had a fire going and pot melting snow. Rags were tossed in and one by one, elves showed up and cleaned their swords and arrows. I cleaned both my lady's sword and mine and then did the other two._

 _The twins and Glorfindel joined me and I watched them meticulously work on their weapons and arrows. Elladan glanced in my direction and saw me holding his mother's sword. All work ceased from the three when he asked, "Why do you have Naneth's and Arwen's swords?"_

" _It had to be cleaned," I calmly answered and had the satisfaction of seeing them cringe._

" _Did any of our elleth get hurt?" Glorfindel asked quietly and I noticed any hint of teasing was gone. The twins stood ridged, waiting for my answer. I'm not sure what they would have done, should I say yes._

" _Just scared and roughed up a bit when the ruffians dragged them off their horses."_

" _Do you know which men?" Elladan asked._

" _It is my understanding that group lying over there." I pointed to a patch of bloody snow where about two dozen men were sprawled where they died._

 _Glorfindel led the way to the bodies. We checked to see what kind of wounds killed them; both to brag on them and see if they needed instruction. The last person was still alive; although barely._

" _Why did you attack our mother and sister?" Elrohir screamed down into his face as he grabbed two fistfuls of tunic._

 _We gathered around to hear his answer._

" _The…y were bea..u…tiful. We just wa…nt to touch so…ft skin and kiss tho…se pre...fect lips. So long…," he trailed off and his eyes became sightless. Elrohir released him and stood up._

 _Elrond and Celeborn warned Angus against waylaying anyone or we would be back and Avenlan wouldn't have an army anymore. Elrond let him read the contract and told him his king would be along within a day or two and he could explain how startling elves was never a good idea._

 _We made haste to put more miles between us and what men were capable of covering. It was almost dark when Celeborn called halt. Tents were formed in a circle with ours in the center. I had no doubt the twins wouldn't be taking a midnight hunt and wondered where Arwen was bedding down after our scare._

 _We ate warm Lembas and talked with Celeborn and Galadriel a bit, but everyone was weary and we broke apart to our tents. I watched to see which one Arwen went to and when she headed to her brothers' tent, I spoke up. "Arwen, come sleep with Glorfindel and me."_

 _Celeborn and Galadriel spun from where they were about to enter their tent and marched back to us. "What?" Celeborn roared._

" _Arwen has been kicked out of the nest," Elrond firmly stated and placed his arm around Celebrían's shoulders._

 _Galadriel looked into all our minds and tugged on Celeborn's arm. "Let Elrond take care of this."_

 _Celeborn glared at her. "It is our duty to step in when the child of our child may be in danger."_

" _Meleth-nín, the only danger Arwen faces is tripping over one of her brother's weapons. She will be fine with them."_

 _Glorfindel silently stepped around the twin's tent. Seeing Arwen near the door, he opened the flap and kissed her cheek, bidding her a goodnight. He joined us. "I added extra guards, now that I have Celeborn's to use and abuse. All will be well tonight."_

 _Elrond tugged Celebrían in the direction of their tent which was next to their children's. "Come, I need to examine you. If I find so much as one bruise, I'll break the contract and go to war against my own kin."_

" _You will do no such thing," Celebrían reasoned and grabbed his hand, leading the way._

 _Galadriel looked amused. "If you wish to stand guard at the door of your daerhin's tent, I will give a detailed account of how soft and warm our bed is in the morning." With a wave to us she treaded lightly on top of the snow and into her tent._

 _Celeborn pulled a flask of wine from his cape and took a swig. Seeing Glorfindel looking forlornly at it, he relented and handed it over. "What is behind making Arwen sleep with her brother's?" He asked in a quiet tone. The camp was settling down for the night after the battle and no songs were heard, indicating just how tired the elves were._

" _Arwen is making noises that she needs more independence. Elrond is testing her. If she makes the trip to the Havens and back home in the spring with no complaints, he will send her abroad to learn the lands and how to scout." Glorfindel took one more swig and handed the flask to me._

" _Has he told her this?" Celeborn was already planning of a summer in Imladris._

" _Nooo," Glorfindel drawled. "It will be a surprise. I of course will oversee her training."_

" _As daeradar, I outrank you. I will take her under my wing as I did her brother's."_

" _I suggest we both take the opportunity to be shed of Elrond for a summer and take his children for an extended trip…..under the guise of training of course." Glorfindel's eyes lit with mischief at the thought of playing all summer._

" _We can do that," Celeborn agreed. "I just got a reminder the bed is now warm. You two should marry so you can appreciate a summer without voices in your head." Taking his flask, he left us by the dying fire._

 _Glorfindel looked up. "I see stars."_

 _I looked with him and we saw the light of the Silmaril on the bow of Vingilótë to the southeast of us, slowly making its nightly voyage._

* * *

 _Snow covered ground yielded to soggy, muddy traveling. We were a band of weary travelers when the iron gates of Mithlond beckoned like a jewel fashioned for a diadem. As predicted, a mile from the gate, a mighty horn sounded with the cadence elves were at the gate. At the swift pace of the horses, we were at the gate just as it swung out. Our staffs flying banners gave who was visiting away and the keeper of the gate bowed as we halted the horses before him._

" _My lords and ladies, Lord Círdan is at his residence. Do you need assistance?"_

 _Celeborn spoke for us. "We know the way." He moved his horse and the guard hurried from the way. Elves were gathering to see who was paying them a visit as we rode down the main street and veered to the channel and Círdan's palace. The warriors continued on to barracks near where the guards of the Havens lived. They knew where to go and that they were most likely not needed for the rest of winter and could take their leisure in the many taverns. Those of us expected to stay with Lord Círdan, rode past the guard and to his front door._

 _We were informed later; Círdan was in his office when the horn sounded of arriving elves. He sent his personal servant, Taíban to the door should the visitors require his services. Taíban rushed back to the office. "My lord, Celeborn and Elrond and theirs are dismounting as I speak."_

 _Círdan rushed down the hall to the door just as Celeborn pushed it open and entered first. "My dear friends, this is quite the surprise. He went from elf to elf, greeting in order of importance. To my dismay, I was greeted before Elrond's children. I turned apologetically to them, only to see them laughing at my plight._

 _Elrohir leaned close after Círdan greeted him and spoke in my mind, 'You are the son of a lord of Gondolin and therefore outrank us.'_

' _Not so. You could be princes and heirs of the High King.'_

' _Maybe he was going according to age,' Arwen joined in. 'You notice he addressed me last.'_

' _I will study on this,' I ended our interchange lest we be noticed._

 _We gathered in Círdan's large sitting room after our baths and servants poured us wine. I wasn't sure which I enjoyed more, the body numbing spirits or clean clothes. Servants carted our garments away and I saw blood still on Glorfindel's and the twin's tunics. Elrond and Celeborn filled Círdan in on our adventures and Elrond handed him the contract to read and make a copy._

" _I think explaining they couldn't afford war on two fronts against elves swayed negotiations in my favor," Elrond told him. He was seated comfortably on a plush sofa with Celebrían snuggled against his side. On an identical sofa, likewise, were Celeborn and Galadriel._

" _We planned on arriving a week before Elrond, but the snows and encounters with men delayed us until they caught up," Galadriel added. She looked at Elrond. "Did you know that little skirmish was our third crossing the old Anor kingdom?"_

" _I heard the warriors talking and figured you would tell us in time," Elrond sleepily replied._

" _We encountered the first group at Weathertop," Celeborn started the story. "They weren't expecting elves this late in the year. It was a band from Rhudaur and they claim lands clear to Imladris."_

 _Elrond snorted, "Valandur, the youngest, and one I might have to remove from my brother's progeny and said as much to him. I told him he would have to patrol without our help and Imladris was off limits should they need assistance. He started whining about it being a Homely House and I wasn't being charitable for all they were offering us and reminded me his father's borders were the same. I explained that I liked his father and he better not bring orcs to my door or I'll close my valley to all men. It was a trying week and I was challenged on everything."_

 _Celebrían patted his thigh. "We will get through these trying times, meleth-nín. In a thousand years, the offspring won't even remember the contract."_

" _It won't be there in a millennia," Galadriel announced._

" _Do you know how it dies?" I asked._

" _Oh, the way men usually kill things; endless wars."_

Thráin jerked his head and realized he was falling asleep in his chair. Dimming the light, he padded barefoot to his bed and called it a night.


	21. 21 Rivendell

"I didn't expect to see you until the wedding," Thranduil challenged.

"We'll talk in private," Celeborn replied as he swung off his mount. He turned his horse over to Vellon and stalked to where Thranduil stood just inside his tall entrance doors. "We made a hurried trip to arrive ahead of an even bigger egotistical bore than you are."

Thranduil grinned, "And tell me more about my protégé." They took wooden stairs down to the lower levels and by the pool, through massive roots into the king's office. He immediately played host and poured glasses of the fine wine from Erebor and set a large golden pitcher of wine on the low gilded table in front of comfortable chairs.

"He is king of Rohan and reports speak of a malevolent ruler. However for the gold I'm parting with he is making good my request and has a large caravan almost through Old Forest Road. I insisted he pay his way to the mountain and would be rewarded twofold and Haldir is leading so you won't be stiffed."

"My scouts reported their location, but you didn't come here to warn me of a pompous king. I assume there will be a wedding soon and you want to personally entertain me with details of forbidden encounters and my iôn's declarations of love for Arwen."

"No," he replied flately. He hated to be the one to dash Thranduil's hopes, but now was the best time. Besides, Thranduil might take his anger out on King Fengel and that would brighten his day. "Elrond already knows no wedding is to happen and I thought best to inform you in person. Legolas tried, but his heart didn't thaw, nor did Arwen's. Galadriel and her blasted mirror spoke of great deeds for your iôn and sorrow for us."

Thranduil downed his glass as Celeborn's words sank in. "I'm sorry, mellon-nín. I will recover my disappointment, but sorrow because of Arwen? What happens?" He saw despair flash through Celeborn's eyes and prepared himself.

"She weds the king of Gondor."

Thranduil blinked as Celeborn downed his glass and reached for the pitcher. "Gondor has no king."

"He is born."

"Then we are close to the end."

Celeborn nodded. "I come with wisdom and messages from the witch."

In spite of his shock and disappointment, Thranduil laughed.

"She says another attempt to take the mountain by Sauron is brewing and an attack may be imminent before dwarves reach the mountain. She expects the Witch-king of Angmar to lead his Nazgûl forces again."

The news sobered Thranduil. "I didn't see my iôn with you."

"No, he hates to miss the battle, but doesn't want you to think he is coming back under your thumb and has a new task that will last several years. He has been asked to train the future king of Gondor. For now, I have left him in charge of the Galadhrim Warriors remaining to guard my realm. When I return, I will send him on a tour of Gondor, Rohan and all of Eriador with instructions he must be at Imladris when the child is fifteen. The boy is now eleven and our future rests on his shoulders. He must have the best trainer."

"Why not Elrond's iôn's?" Thranduil wanted to know why it must be his son.

Celeborn shrugged. "Galadriel says they must form a bond that will last until the king dies of old age. Legolas will be given total control of the child. Elladan and Elrohir play with him and don't wish to change their roles. They will be told in time he will become their brother-in-law. Legolas has to come into his own. His path is different from yours and his biggest fear is your death. He doesn't wish to be a king and feels he is much too young to rule."

Thranduil listened for the first time where his son was concerned. "Should I die; will you take over as regent until he is ready?"

Celeborn nodded once.

* * *

The twins led the way into a circular enclosure of stone. Although long abandoned, the stone ovens worked and a pile of wood was stacked by each. Long rows of covered lentos circled the inner walls and half was pens for animals. The elves stayed on their horses and Elladan explained, "We are near my home, called Rivendell in Westron. This is one of our barricade's that housed soldiers in the second age. The stream that enters that stone building," he pointed, "is a bathhouse. There are furnaces inside to heat water and bathing pools of stone. We will ride to Rivendell and check in. Elves will be here shortly to assist. Those who are with Lord Círdan will leave the wagons and go with us."

"Ye sure ye ain't abandoning us?" Lord Garad called out.

"Someone will be here within an hour from my father's house," Elrohir added. "Since we have been gone all winter, we don't know who will come."

Dwarves looked at the immense area and started shouting orders for arranging a camp and the enclosure didn't look so immense with wagons lining the outer edge and livestock herded to a corral and dwarflings underfoot.

Elrond heard the horn and rose from his meeting with Erestor and Glorfindel. "That must be our wayward elflings, but it is unusual they sound a horn for just them."

Glorfindel's smile had Elrond and Erestor looking suspiciously at him. "I may have forgotten to mention Círdan is with them." He got his desired results when Elrond flew from the room and Erestor punched his arm before running through the house shouting orders to make ready for Lord Círdan. He set a slower pace, but was still on the landing standing beside Elrond when Círdan dismounted.

Elrond called out a Sindar greeting and drew him in for a hug. "Glorfindel told us you were coming…..about two minutes ago. I am giving him to you as a gift."

Círdan laughed and stepped to Glorfindel. "I heard of your meeting with the twins and am still miffed they didn't include me. I am gifting them back to this house." He turned to catch Elrond's reaction and his heart melted at the sight of Elrond holding both sons close and kissing their cheeks and brows."

Erestor bowed to Círdan and then took a hug and then greeted Taiban, just as he heard the twin's cry out.

"Erestor," both twins cried as one and rushed him with hugs. "What are you doing here?"

Erestor swiveled his head and looked with amusement at Glorfindel and surmised he also didn't mention the flight to them. He turned back. "The eagles brought Thorin and me. Like you two, we've had a busy winter on both sides of the Misty Mountains."

They looked around. "Where is Thorin?"

"He has taken quite an interest in Estel and they are learning dwarven history in the Hall of Tombs. What better instructor than a dwarf. And for how he came to be here, I'll let him tell the tale."

By the time Erestor was done explaining, Elrond and Círdan were halfway up the stairs and he hurried to catch up. Entering the house, he broke off and motioned Lindir to his side. In a low voice, he asked, "Did you get rooms ready for Lords Círdan and Taiban?"

"They are ready and Figwit sent word to our garrison to make room for more warriors. How long are they staying?"

"I will find out. Now run to the kitchens and inform them of our esteemed guests and only the best can be served while Lord Círdan is in residence. I'll let you know how many will dine with Elrond and where he chooses.

 _'ERESTOR,'_ reverberated through the house as Elrond summoned his advisor mentally.

Lindir watched as Erestor took the stairs three at a time before hustling to do his tasks.

Erestor found Elrond in his bedchamber changing his robes. He instinctively started fussing with his hair, replacing the butterfly barrette with a horse head, and checking the beads. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the navy tunic Elrond was working the many buttons. He went into the closet and looked for a formal robe. On a hook, he found one and carefully carried it for Elrond's approval. With a nod of acceptance, he slid the auburn robe with embroidery done by Galadriel in black thread, over his tunic.

"I didn't call you here to help me dress, although it usually is more efficient with you assisting," Elrond commented as he looked in the mirror. "I'm sure you've lined out our staff, but I need you to prepare rooms for several dwarves. Also, tell Gilraen they have arrived and to get Estel away from Thorin so he can greet them." _'GLORFINDEL'_ , Elrond shouted mentally without warning and patted Erestor's shoulder when he cringed.

"I'm here, Elrond," Glorfindel announced as he entered the bedchamber. Elrond and Erestor noticed he likewise was sporting his finest robes with traditional House of the Golden Flower designs along the collar and cuffs of his tunic.

"I need you to ride to the compound and escort the Thorin's kin here and anyone they invite. Tell them they are to stay in my house as guests and that I have a surprise for them. Don't tell them Thorin is here, as he is the surprise. Also, take several warriors and servants to see to the dwarves needs and supply what we can."

"Wasn't ordering all that firewood cut and stacked enough?" Glorfindel whined.

"And how hard was it?" Elrond asked acerbically. "I heard you tell the cutters what to do and they went to the forest and you to the wine."

"It parched my throat giving the order." Glorfindel wasn't about to let Elrond have the last word and his merry blue eyes danced with mischief.

"Before you leave, get a detailed list of names from the boys so you don't appear as inept to the dwarves as you do to elves. Hopefully, you will find them with Círdan in the bathing chambers."

* * *

The dwarves looked suspiciously at the group of elves that rode brazenly into their midst. Their eyes were focused on the leader, a tall elf of golden hair and fair features.

"Is that a he or she?" Garad leaned over and whispered to Fili.

Fili laughed, "That is their mightiest warrior and I would be cautious about insulting him." He strode at the front of the dwarves who were starting to gather. "Welcome, Lord Glorfindel. On behalf of all five thousand of us; welcome to your compound."

Glorfindel grinned and motioned with his hand. Elves dismounted and started unloading pack horses. "We brought meat and root vegetables and fresh baked bread. Oh, and those pots contain pudding. I've been instructed by our cooks to tell your cooks just to place them on the stove and bring to a boil and serve hot." He looked around at the short dwarves and raised his voice, "On behalf of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the leading families of the Durin line is invited to reside at the last Homely House east of the sea. I was given names and will call them out."

Fili interrupted, "Wait, I know who they are." He jumped on the side of a dwarf sized wagon to look over the assembly. He saw his family near him and started calling out names.

"Do you have a wagon available?" Glorfindel asked.

"Wait just ah minute," Gróin called out as he toddled over on unstable legs; trumpet in his left ear. "This might be ah trap ta get all the leaders away from our dwarves an slaughter them."

"Are you related to Thorin?" Glorfindel snarked and then remembered. "If you come along quietly, I have a surprise for you."

Kili looked suspicious. "I doubt you will part with any wine."

"Naturally," was the only response from the warrior.

"I trust you," Fili shouted over the din of muttering dwarves. "I for one am looking forward to a feast with elves."

That settled, they helped the elderly into the wagon and Fili took the reins pulled by four rams. They made their way across the moors and dropped abruptly into a ravine. He was glad to have the surefooted animals pulling the wagon while elven warriors rode before and aft. He guided the wagon across the stone bridge and onto a landing. Standing at the foot of the stairs was Elrond and to their surprise, Erestor.

Fili was first off the wagon seat, immediately followed by Kili, who rode beside him. He rushed to Erestor, "Why aren't you in the mountain?"

Erestor let Elrond greet the dismounting dwarves and hoped he wasn't as rude this time as when the Company of Thorin Oakenshield descended upon them. "It's a long story. Come, I have a surprise for you in the Hall of Fire."

Elrond led the suspicious dwarves up the long flight of steps. He kept a clandestine eye on the old dwarves and set a slow pace. At the top, he stopped and started pointing out his buildings. He kept talking until the elder dwarves were breathing normally. He led up another short flight of stairs and two guards opened large, iron doors and he led them into the foyer of his home. He smirked at Lindir as he veered to the right and Hall of Fire.

* * *

Thorin sat at a table in the Hall of Tombs. For a human child, Estel was bright and absorbed his abbreviated tutelage on dwarven history. He heard the horn and saw the boy's eyes widen before focusing once again. Lesson over, Thorin stood and stretched. "I believe you have…," he trailed off when he spotted Lady Gilraen hurry between rows of shelves holding many volumes.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have a message. Lord Elrond just escorted Lord Círdan into the house."

"The old elf is here?" Estel squeaked in awe.

"And you will be on your best behavior and take a bath and wear your best clothes," his mother rambled excitedly and turned back to Thorin. "Your kin are nearby and will be dining tonight with us. Also, they are invited to stay in the house in your wing and Elrond wants you in the Hall of Fire when they arrive as a surprise. They haven't been told you are here."

Thorin nodded and stalked off to his assigned room to change into his best clothes. As Crown Prince, he wanted to look the part for his sister and kin.

Now, he stood before the large circular stone fire pit and watched Elrond escort them inside. He spotted Dis in her traveling attire and jeweled beard.

Dis looked around at the large room and a movement drew her gaze. It was Thorin. With a cry of, "Thorin," she dashed across the space and into his outstretched arms.

Seeing Thorin, the others forgot their awe and distrust at being in an elven home and rushed him also, asking questions and getting hugs as he greeted each of them.

Thorin's roving eyes caught Lindir waiting by the door with several servants. "I'll tell my story of how I came to be here, but first you are to be escorted to your rooms and shown bathing chambers. I'll be waiting right here and will explain." Thorin shut up and let Elrond's house staff lead them away. He looked for the servant who was always lurking with ale on a tray and motioned her forward. Taking his beverage, he turned back to look out the windows that made up most of the wall overlooking the ravine. Lost in thought watching wildlife and elves hurrying along stone paths, he wasn't aware an hour passed.

"May I join you, Prince Thorin?"

Thorin swiveled his head to the side and automatically up. He heard of Lord Círdan, but the one time he was asked to make jewelry in the Havens, he refused an invite to the Lord's home. "You look the same as when last I saw you."

Círdan's eyes crinkled in amusement and bowed his head in acknowledgement while Thorin took in the rich cloth of dark green that formed his tunic and gold gilding from his diadem to rings. "I'm glad you remember me. I will be accompanying your folks across the mountains to Erebor."

"Do you mind if I join you?" Elrond approached with two long stemmed glasses of wine and handed one to Círdan and motioned for a refill of Thorin's ale. "I'm talking about the trip over the mountains," he clarified.

"I assumed you might be," Círdan wisely surmised.

"I am going after my wine. And this is a small sample." Elrond held up his glass in a toast.

Círdan returned the gesture and sipped. He kept his face impassive under Elrond's scrutiny. "I had wine like this daily in the tents and abodes of the Maiar and King Finarfin during the War of the Wrath. The king was gracious to leave several barrels I was forced to share with Celeborn. They made their way onto wagons going east as we raced ahead of sinking lands."

Elrond smiled in remembrance of the journey and elves spreading out and urging all their forest four legged friends to flee the wrath to come and Oromë's deeds of magically moving all four legged creatures to higher ground. He turned his head when he heard boots of dwarves clomping across the room in their direction. Come, Círdan, leave Thorin to his kin tonight."

Thorin took a corner of the massive room and told his version. "I admit to not knowing parts of my journey, but I've been told you all were filled in on my dragon sickness." Thorin wanted it out in the open with his folk.

Dis, sitting on a comfortable bench beside her brother, patted his thigh. "Let us fill you in on our year."

Thorin listened with interest and laughed more freely at some of the funny stories than he had since Smaug. It was noticed by the ones who knew him the longest.

* * *

Seven days later, Elrond led the way east and they tackled the Misty Mountains and High Pass after a week on the high moors. Wearing his impressive gold and mithril armor, Thorin rode at the front of the dwarven wagons behind the elven warriors. He allowed his nephews to accompany Elrond's spawn as scouts ahead of everyone. He accepted a pony; a feisty stallion he named Kibil due to his mithril color. Gróin led it to him the day he accompanied the elder dwarves to the camp and greeted his clan.

"Lad," Gróin caught his attention and he turned from his talking with several warriors, "when, the elven twins brought us these ponies; we decided this one was fit for ah prince."

Thorin looked at the steel grey pony with a white blaze from forelock to the tip of its soft, velvet nose. He reached out and let the pony sniff his scent while looking at the black mane and white stockings. "Have you gotten one for my father? I can't very well accept this fine mount and leave him without."

Gróin and Garad chuckled together. With a motion of Gróin's hand, another pony was brought forth. This one was dark chestnut with four white stockings and a long, thick golden mane and tail. "These are the two finest stallions in the herd and will sire strong, beautiful ponies for a long time. Their lines are some of the finest I've ever seen."

Thorin, an expert on horses, having spent most of his life around them, nodded and ran an appreciative eye over them. "We did well by the hand of the elves."

Fili joined them. "I left Minty and Myrtle with Bilbo. He bred them and in three years we will have two more mounts."

"And how is Bilbo?" Thorin queried.

"He longed to come for the adventure, but only traveled as far as Bree. He said he would attend your wedding if you waited until next year and gave enough notice," Fili responded with laughter.

Thorin snorted in distain, "Your grandfather is getting old and addled. I think he sat in that cell for fifty years contemplating how many granddwarflings I could give him before he dies."

Fili gave a belly laugh and was joined by all who heard. "Uncle, you are dead right on that one. He looks at you like you're a prized bull."

Thinking back on the conversation, Thorin smiled. He decided a little fun with his father for demanding a marriage was in order and put his mind to thinking on all the available lasses. He met three from the Iron Hills that Dáin brought and there was Lióni from Jötunheim and no less than three in the caravan. He knew because the father's already bored him to tears extoling their daughter's virtues. To his dismay, Garad's niece, Gerti, was still available. He hoped she married while he was gone. Since she came of age, she was pushed at either he or Dwalin and he felt sorry for her. Several would have wed her, but Garad held out a false hope it would be her that finally landed a Durin prince. She was slightly younger than Dis and it was rare not to be wed at her age. She didn't have a father to talk for her so Garad stood in. He knew at his age, she was probably the best match and figured the younger lasses would prefer ones their own age.

They camped in the high moors ever creeping upwards towards the crack in the mountain. Thorin watched the twins and his nephews ride into camp and joined the elves for a report while his nephews raced to the family camp for food.

"We rode to the pass entrance," Elladan reported and accepted a bowl of stew and thick slice of buttered bread. The work crews you send, Adar, have the path cleared. The crew made camp for tonight at the entrance and are on their way home. We'll meet them tomorrow."

"What orc sign did they see?" Elrond asked.

"A few scattered goblins encounters and they got a report that all bodies were removed to lower caverns and the goblins promised not to harass or steal from us or were threatened with extinction," Elrohir replied. "They asked why the track was being repaired and learned the Lonely mountain is free of Smaug. Agerhál warned them not to attack any men, dwarves or elves traveling High Pass."

"Did Agerhál get numbers still in Goblin Town?" Glorfindel asked.

"Too many. Now that they have food, they are breeding again and have a new king. It is one of the old king's son's. Eight sons fought and the survivor became king. That is after we killed the first son who took the title." Elladan said around a bite of bread.

Done scarfing his food too fast, Elladan reached into his saddle bags and withdrew a piece of hide that was rolled. Soberly, he handed it to his father. "Agerhál took this off one of the goblins. The goblin was far away from the caves so our warriors waylaid him. He was meeting with a band of orcs sent from Gundabad. It's written in Black Speech."

With distaste at having to touch such a filthy item, Elrond carefully opened the message. "The price on Thorin Oakenshield's head has tripled."

Everyone looked at Thorin.

"What is my crime now?" Thorin asked, puzzled and his countenance darkened into a scowl.

Elrond looked closer at the crudely drawn charcoal etched runes. "For living and killing Smaug, and I believe he isn't to marry and continue this Durin line." He turned the scrap over. "Yes, there is more. They are not to allow the dwarves to return to the mountain and orders are to kill all females if they can find one."

Thorin couldn't catch his breath and was sure that large horse standing by Elladan kicked him in the gut. "I don't care about me. Dáin Ironfoot is more than capable of being my father's heir. But to slaughter dwarrowlasses on the off chance they are going to wed me is unconscionable. Didn't we kill enough of them last fall so they can't pull this off?" Thorin's pang of shock promptly morphed into rage, customary in the dwarven race.

"Who is sending lasses to Erebor?" Círdan, with patience of the oldest elf in Middle Earth, asked.

Thorin drew a deep breath and gave the clans and their locations. "I figure we should all arrive within days of each other."

Elrond added. "Mithrandir is leading the eastern clan. Sauron will think twice about attacking him. I'm sure Celeborn is safe in his tree and won't budge until the next war, so the White Mountain clan needs to join with us for the final leg. Give me a moment and I'll see if they are through Redhorn Pass." He took a dozen steps from them and reached out. _'Galadriel.'_

' _I'm here, Elrond.'_

' _Prove us both liars and tell me I must hurry south for a wedding.'_

Her laughter filled his head. _'You didn't contact me for an answer you are denying to yourself.'_

' _No, I trust she is being gracious to Legolas?'_

' _What little we see of him these days. Celeborn went alone to Thranduil. You will face Nazgûl on the other side of Mirkwood. I sent my beloved and his army to help you get the dwarves to Erebor.'_

' _I am grateful. I assume you are aware Círdan is assisting the dwarves all the way to the Mountain?'_ Elrond leaned against Elrohir's horse that still wore a saddle.

' _I saw him as far as Imladris. Have you left there yet?'_

' _Yes, we will enter the pass tomorrow. I got a report that Thorin Oakenshield's bounty for only his head has tripled. Also, they plan on attacking all caravans and killing any dam they find in hopes of killing all being brought as prospective brides. Has your mirror foretold events?'_

' _It has been quiet, so the Valar don't think I need to know details of dwarven migration.'_

' _I need to know if the White Mountain dwarves passed your realm yet.'_

' _A week ago. Why?'_

' _We are going to meet with them and merge into one large force. I will send the boys to hold them at Old Ford Bridge.'_

' _They better move fast.'_

' _Don't spend all your time water gazing.'_

' _With my husband anyplace near Thranduill? Don't count on it, Elrond.'_

He broke the connection and called, "Elladan, Elrohir; get ready to ride tonight."

That got everyone's attention and even the dwarf lords gathered to hear the message.

"The White Mountain dwarves are nearing Old Ford Bridge. I need you to halt them until we arrive."

"Why that old fox; he plans on beating us ta the mountain," Garad howled in rage.

"You have the Crown Prince right here," Círdan reminded him with tolerance. "You can assure the lass comes from Ered Luin if you use his time wisely."

Everybody looked at Thorin, who was glaring up at the elf. "They don't need matchmaking advice from an elf," he snarled. "You led my clan this far. I'll go with Elrond's sons and meet with Uncle Fárin."

"Maybe he isn't in charge of his caravan." Garad tried to keep Thorin in his group. "We have three lovely lasses, an ye need not look further."

Gróin, with trumpet in his ear, laughed. "Give it up, Garad. The lad has had decades ta decide on yer niece. He just isn't interested."

"If you travel with my sons, I insist you take fifty of my warriors. I take your life in my hands very seriously, Prince Thorin," Elrond stipulated with no room for refusal in his tone. He turned to Erestor. "I want either you or Glorfindel leading."


	22. 22 Thorin The Prince

Haldir knew they were surrounded, but kept his horse walking at a steady pace along the Old Forest Road. He didn't let on to the king, but wished his elven kind would appear with weapons drawn just to instill fright into the foolish human who rode at his side. Another mile and he got his wish when Demythel on horseback blocked the road when they crested a small hill. Haldir greeted him in Sindarin while the caravan halted; most out of sight and wondering why the stop.

"King Thranduil approaches and I am to hold you here until he arrives," Demythel responded in kind. He let a scornful glance flicker over the king and dismissed him as unimportant.

"What's this?" Fingel challenged. He saw the unimpressed look the elf threw at him. "I am King Fengel and demand an explanation."

"He took his sword to Lord Celeborn and drew blood," Haldir continued in Sindarin and saw Demythel's eyes widen in shock.

"Are you going to kill this impudent king?" Demythel replied.

"I am under orders to get the supplies to Dale and Erebor, so unfortunately no." He looked at Fengel and spoke in Westron. "We are to wait here for King Thranduil."

"And just where does this king live?" Fengel snarled disdainfully. "Shouldn't I be invited to dine with him?"

Haldir and Demythel laughed.

"King Thranduil isn't in the habit of entertaining other races," Demythel slightly lied. He knew when Thranduil heard of his cousin's injury, he would most likely toss the king into his dungeon until the supplies were unloaded and wagon train headed south.

"So you do speak the tongue of men," Fengel raged and looked around. "Which way to the king's home? I'll seek him out so we can be on our way."

The two elves remained silent. Suddenly they both looked in a direction. "Sounds like Thranduil is having issues with his new elk," Demythel amusedly spoke in Sindarin.

"I saw his other hart lying dead inside the walls of Dale and men starting to butcher it for food," Haldir replied in kind.

Fengel heard his guards give gasps of surprise and cranked his head around in time to see a large elk trotting alongside his wagons towards him. His mouth dropped open at the elf riding him and he was even more stunned at one who was a dead ringer for Lord Celeborn riding beside the beast on a horse he was sure came from Rohirrim stock. He remembered to close his mouth as the large rack's tines stopped feet from the nose of his horse and the animal tried to bolt in fright. All of the sudden his horse calmed and he could focus on those before him and hadn't a clue Thranduil soothed the frightened horse. He first addressed Celeborn. "Do all elves resemble each other or you really the one I sliced open?" Before Celeborn could respond or direct Haldir to, the insipid king continued his prattle. "No, Celeborn would still be recovering. You must be his twin."

Thranduil grinned at his companion. _'You didn't tell me a man was able to strike you down. Do you wish I throw him in my dungeon? And I want every detail.'_

' _You're boring me like he is. Haldir, tell this fool it is me.'_

"King Fengel, this is indeed Lord Celeborn and the one on the hart is King Thranduil," Haldir immediately obeyed.

"Your leg, Lord Celeborn; is it well?" Fengel feigned concern; sure his son would be crowned king within three months when word of his slaying at the hands of elves reached Rohan.

' _Tell him to forget the leg and pay Thranduil,'_ Celeborn ordered without taking his eyes off the worthless king.

The king is here for his tribute," Haldir steered the conversation to money.

Fengel turned in his saddle. "Bring the chest up front," he roared. A guard on horseback pushed to his king's side and set the chest on the saddle horn and retreated back to his position.

"There are fifty six wagons, three hundred and seventy two horses and two hundred men," Haldir rattled off. On the trip he personally counted.

"Three of the wagons carry our supplies," Fengel announced. "And several horses also are packing our supplies."

"They still pay tax," Haldir stated with distain.

"Just how come you are doing all the talking? What are you; another prince like that idiot Legolas?" Fengel just realized the other two hadn't spoken one word, but at his statement, King Thranduil raised his hand.

Forgoing a reply, Haldir yarded the chest off the horse and rode to Thranduil. "I counted it while the men slept last night. It is all there."

"YOU DID WHAT?" Fengel roared in rage, spittle flying as he drew his sword. He would teach this young looking elf to sneak around his personal belongings. He saw a blur and Celeborn pulled that impressive sword again and swung as before. This time he knew the great lord wouldn't stop. He was right, but instead of his head rolling around on the ground felt the road come up fast and with an expulsion of air and ooofff sound as wind was knocked from him, leaving him staring up at his horse's belly.

Hands reached down and violently jerked him to his feet and he was slammed against his mount's side. Once again he was looking into raging blue eyes of Lord Celeborn.

"If King Thranduil drops his hand; all your men will die together. You insulted his son. He has killed men for less." Done speaking, Celeborn released him and stalked to his horse.

Fengel watched Celeborn walk away and couldn't discern so much as a limp. He wondered at the magic of elves to heal so swiftly and didn't move until the lord was on his horse; then he mounted and for the first time looked over the elk's rack to address Thranduil. "I will cause no further annoyance to you or Lord Celeborn. I was out of line addressing your son as such; please accept my sincere regrets." His eyes drifted to the king's hand that didn't twitch.

"You will continue a short distance to a marsh. Don't veer off the road as we won't come to your aid," Celeborn ordered. "You will go north across a bridge at an intersection. It will take you three days to reach Dale and is all uphill. King Bard of Dale and King Thráin of Erebor will instruct you." He made a slight motion and an elf stepped from around a massive tree and handed a sealed letter to Haldir.

"That is a letter to King Thráin of Erebor. See he receives it immediately upon your arrival. If word reaches me that Fengel detained you; he knows the consequences."

"We mine our own ore," Fengel recited. He saw the elven king smile in his direction; although the hand remained raised.

"You will remain at the mountain until the dwarves arrive. There are three parties converging on the mountain. It is too dangerous to be caught out in the open with such a small entourage. The forces of Sauron are on the prowl and you will help fight when they attack."

"You order me as if a serf in your realm," Fengel blustered. He wasn't used to being addressed as anything except reverently by his subjects.

' _You are.'_ "I am just trying to get your wagons and men home. Haldir won't be guiding you. When you return to Rohan; at the bridge keep going south. It will take you along the east side of Mirkwood to the shallows. Your men are familiar with the area."

"You are sure of an attack?" It just dawned on Fengel what the lord said.

"Yes." Done with the fool of a king, Celeborn turned his horse into the forest and it swallowed him.

Fengel didn't motion his caravan forward and waited for the king to address him; hoping for a better reception.

Thranduil mentally shouted, _'Stand down,'_ and lowered his hand. He smiled when Fengel flinched. Without a word, he turned his new mount to follow Celeborn.

Fengel looked to where the elf stopped them in the road and he too was gone. He motioned for them to continue and looked at Haldir. "Did Thranduil really have his warriors ready to kill us? I didn't see anyone."

"If you did; King Thranduil would punish them severely. Ask around Dale about Thranduil."

* * *

"Elves," a guard yelled above the din of dwarrowdams cooking and dwarflings burning energy off before bedtime.

Lord Fárin stood from his place near a fire with meat stretched across a metal cooking rod. The smells of burning flesh made his stomach rumble with anticipation and a stream of imprecations burst forth when a group of elves rode boldly into their camp. He looked them over and choked back an order for them to leave when a dwarf emerged on a pony from the midst of them. It was obvious the elves were protecting the dwarf. He stamped across the yard to challenge any dwarf riding with elves. His old eyes met amused blues of Thorin. Anger evaporated and he hollered in a loud tone that stopped all conversations except the spreading of one word, 'Thorin'.

Thorin dismounted and got the tedious business of greeting his uncle out of the way. "Uncle Fárin, may we join you?"

"Bloody better, lad," Fárin cheerfully greeted and grabbed him and slammed his forehead into Thorin's, completely forgetting he was manhandling the king. As soon as he stepped back, he remembered the lad was now his sovereign. "No disrespect meant, Thor… I mean, King Thorin."

Thorin motioned for the group of elves to dismount. "These are my traveling colleagues; Lord Erestor, Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir and their guards. All are from Rivendell."

"By all means, join us," Fárin forced out. "We found ah small band of elk taking ah drink at water's edge an tonight we feast."

"Good; I've eaten nothing but bread since entering High Pass. A real meal is most welcome," Thorin responded with more enthusiasm than he felt. He saw a younger dwarf who looked like Fárin, waiting impatiently for an introduction and made the first move. "Which cousin are you?"

Dárin beamed and reminded Thorin of Gimli and Thorin Stonehelm at that moment. "Dárin, the youngest son."

Thorin nodded and passed him by, leading the elven lords to Fárin's fire. He looked around at the stone buildings now occupied with dwarrowdams and the youngest dwarflings. He saw water steaming from large cauldrons and knew the young would have baths tonight. He sat on a log that was hewn into a bench and from the weathered grey color must be in that spot for a hundred years he figured. When a servant bowed before him and held a pole with cooked meat from the ribs, Thorin speared one with his knife, tugged it off and nodded at the elven lords to do likewise. Tearing off a chunk with his teeth, he decided now was the best time to share his news. "How long have you been camped here?"

"We arrived last night an when the dams spotted buildings, they pleaded their case for ah few days rest before the final push through Mirkwood. I told them we wouldn't stop again until the mountain. Tell me all ye saw an did, Thorin."

"Before I go into details, there was something left out of the raven's notes." He noticed several dwarven lords were gathered around them and that was good. They would get the news directly from him and nothing would be lost in the translation. He looked into Fárin's eyes, "Father is alive and king, not me."

"Ye are makin tasteless jokes, Thorin," Fárin disproved with his tone.

"No joke and these three have seen him." Thorin motioned to the elves.

"I spent the winter at Erebor," Erestor concurred. "With permission from King Thráin that is."

"My brother-in-law really lives?" Fárin was astounded. "Where was he all these years?"

"The dungeon of Dol Guldur," Thorin tersely replied and proceeded to fill them in on the previous year up to and including his latest injury. "The elves want us to form a large group for safety. They will be here in a few days with the Longbeards from the Blue Mountains. We will wait and allow them their rest before moving on together."

Fárin listened to the command and realized he was outranked and that irked him. "I think two groups moving close, but separate would make more sense. Do ye have any idea how large ah party eight thousand dwarves make?"

Thorin raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Are you so senile you don't remember Smaug?" Thorin countered while the dwarves ringing them laughed.

"I guess I'm not thinking clearly, lad. I'm still in shock at yer news. Why didn't Thráin mention he lives in the note?"

"He wanted to see your face, but the situation has changed and my group knows he lives."

"That figures," Fárin grumped. He suddenly grinned. "That gives ye ah few days ta meet our only lass in competition for yer hand."

Thorin didn't have to look at the elves to know they were laughing; he could hear them.

* * *

Estel ran and played a game of tag with dwarves his size. The fact they were almost forty didn't enter his head and he thought them closer to his age. "Gotcha," he cried and turned and ran; jumping over a bolder easily escaping his pursuer.

On the side of the ravine, Glorfindel sat on Asfaloth and watched him carefully. He knew goblin's would prowl after dark and the sun was setting high on the mountains and it already dusk in the narrow gully they crowded into against the high mountain chill and safety should a band of orcs be traveling the pass after dark, or worse, trolls. Elrond ordered no fires and there wasn't any wood this high up anyway. Glorfindel saw Gilraen speak to Erak and he whistled for the boy. He stopped monitoring when the boy ran to his mother, was told something and crawled under an elven wagon. There wasn't room for tents so everyone made do and most dwarven males were settling down in the open, heads positioned upwards on the slopes. Suddenly his his fëa felt a disturbance. He moved around the bend to the trail just as a band of orcs sniffed the air and turned into him.

"Elf," cried one in black speech. For sounding the warning, he died first. Glorfindel figured there was about forty in the band and wondered why they were crossing the pass and from whence they came. He mentally shouted, _'ORC S AT THE ENTRANCE,'_ and jumped off his trusted mount with orders for him to seek safety and drew his sword in time to deflect two arrows and moved into them so they couldn't draw their bows. He lit from within, startling the orc just long enough for him to take its head and he swung in a circle, slicing the one trying for his back across the belly. Arrows filling bodies all around had him backing up so the others could practice. He glanced around and saw Elrond and Círdan on a bolder watching their warriors dispose of the last of their foe. He jumped effortlessly beside them.

"Elrond acquiesced to a pleading request of letting my warriors fight this band. It's been many a long century since we saw any real conflict."

"You will have to explain to your loyal guard my orders," Elrond told Glorfindel. "I instructed them to back up our guests and not selfishly assume Lord Círdan's warriors cannot fight. I did hear comments from ours to the effect if you were injured; they would teach city dwellers how to fight."

"The direct quote was, 'Stupid Sindar city elves don't know a staff from an arrow and you were likely to be injured from friendly fire," Círdan clarified with a grin. "'And we don't have time to train you,'" he finished.

Elrond winced. "I hoped you hadn't heard that."

"And I hoped you missed, 'Uneducated Ñoldor kinslayers automatically kill elves over enemy.'" Círdan couldn't contain his laughter.

"I heard," Elrond ground through his teeth. "I don't want a civil war before we reach the mountain." He looked at Glorfindel. "You deal with all of them."

"Glorfindel grinned in delight. "I see a competition at journey's end."

"I'm sure Thranduil will have a few who would like to form a three way contest," Círdan responded enthusiastically.

Taíban stepped up with another message written on a scrap of hide in black speech. He handed it to Círdan just as Fili and Kili arrived.

"You didn't save any for us," Kili lamented.

"Nay lads," Círdan said as he jumped off the rock so not to tower so far above them. He saw Elrond and Glorfindel do likewise. "It's best if elves take all watches at this end of the ravine." He turned to Taíban, "Post our guards near here. Elrond's warriors are correct in that ours need a refresher course. He handed the scrap to Elrond. "Your mastery of their language far exceeds mine."

"I doubt that," Elrond commented. "You don't want your fëa disturbed."

Círdan smiled fondly at his younger friend.

"It says to find the dwarves and kill dams." Elrond, with a disgusted flick of his wrist threw it on the fire of burning bodies. "I want all females looking exactly like the males. They already do so I don't understand why the orcs think they can tell them apart."

"They can smell them," Glorfindel supplied. "I was watching them sniff us out."

"After all these millennia, I didn't think anything new reached my ears," Círdan commented. "How do you know they can smell female dwarves?"

Glorfindel grimaced. "Thráin made a comment to Erestor, who felt obliged to share with me, and now I'm glad he did. Usually I pay as much attention to Erestor's nattering as I do the elleth in the sewing room."

Círdan smiled at the thought of Glorfindel listening to the females gossiping.

"When Thráin was in captivity, he watched when they would capture dwarves and they would separate the females unerringly by sniffing them. Then they would have their way with them before feasting upon their flesh."

"Thráin saw all this?" Círdan mournfully exclaimed in a low tone; for Fili and Kili were still helping move orcs onto the pile. Although they spoke Sindarin, he didn't want to chance them overhearing and knew they understood more than they could speak. He didn't know if Thráin spoke of it outside Erestor and would enquire."

"He saw much during his captivity and will be most helpful with his knowledge," Elrond wisely extrapolated. "Glorfindel, set extra watches. I'll be near Estel the rest of the night. I'm questioning my wisdom in bringing him now."

"You can't protect him forever," Glorfindel cautioned. "He will soon shake the form of child in favor of a man. This trip in a way is farewell to that boy."

Elrond's expression darkened and a fleeting ghost of sadness flashed and without another word departed with Círdan.

* * *

"Daernaneth," Arwen called as she rounded a Mallorn root protruding from fertile soil that was much taller than she, "what has the mirror revealed?"

Galadriel straightened her stiff back and sent healing to it. "Your adar is on top of High Pass. He will join the dwarven band that passed here at Old Ford Bridge and they will tackle Thranduil as one large group. Círdan is with them still."

"I wish we could travel north and see him. I haven't been to the Haven's….," she trailed off. "Adar never went back. He sends the twins in his stead. Once they took me, but were so angry inside they camped on the hills so their presence didn't disturb anyone. I spent a month with Lord Círdan and he was the perfect guide. I kept telling him I understood if he had duties, but he shushed me each time. He told me I was welcome to come live with him and brighten his home."

Galadriel smiled in understanding. She had received a long letter from her old friend of the visit and how he was going to steal Arwen from them. She couldn't believe it was already a memory of a hundred and seventy years. "I'm done for the night. Has Legolas returned?"

They started the climb to the talan. "No. He takes everything so seriously. Daeradar told him he was in charge and he feels it his duty to ride patrol instead of delegating."

Galadriel laughed. "I remember your daeradar riding patrols in Doriath and how I longed for his return. I am sad you don't pine for Legolas as I did Celeborn."

"It's time to tell more stories and get back to work on my dowry," Arwen decided.

"Your dowry will be fit for a queen. Why the jewels Thráin sent rival any royal wedding in Aman and I've never seen such wealth in Middle Earth for a wedding. We now have enough gems to make your diadem and jewelry. I have a multitude of ideas and we need to spend a day sketching."


	23. 23 Dale At Last

Thorin choked on a sharp rebuke when the lass, Arli, forgot her place and grabbed his arm. He didn't bother explaining this wasn't a courtship walk; just a stroll along rivers edge to pass the time until the other group arrived. This was the third day in a row she was pressed into his company and him answering multitude questions about his kin. That she was prompted to ask by her family never entered his head. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her parents and the old lord Hepti beaming as they followed at a discrete distance.

"Your father is alive?" she uttered a rhetorical question. "You must be so happy…., although that means you are no longer king."

Thorin's molars ground together as she prattled on not letting go of the arm now held captive and he gave a silent prayer to Mahal that his father didn't choose this one for him. He was also glad Dwalin wasn't present, sparing him endless teasing. He wished the caravan from the Blue Mountains would magically appear and he could shunt this child in the lads direction for practice in dealing with insipid lasses.

"My feelings and thoughts are none of your business," he finally snapped in irritation. He shook her hands off his elbow and spun on his heels. Stomping booted feet to Hepti, he snarled, "Keep your granddaughter far from me."

Hepti, not put off; for many dwarrow started this way, smiled. "The lass will grow on ye. She just wants ta please yer highness an is eager. Ye can see with yer own eyes she will provide many sons for the Durin line ta continue."

He growled in his deep tone. "If I have my way, the line will continue through Dáin Ironfoot and his son." He hurried from their presence and angled towards the elves; the one group the dwarves gave a wide berth.

Erestor handed him a flask. "Wine I'm afraid is all I have to offer."

Thorin upended it and took a long swig. "I like wine. It's this eternal waiting I'm having issues with."

"I sent the twins back a few miles to see where the caravan is. I figure in two days they will arrive. They also cannot sit still and their idle hands create too much mischief; like the wine incident."

Thorin grinned, irritation subsiding. "I don't have patience with simple lasses. My father is wrong this time. These choices are too young. Fili and Kili should be pursuing them."

"Your father is king. You remember what it was like to have your commands fulfilled."

Thorin blew air from puffed cheeks in disgust. "I see a distinct lesser regard for a prince. Hepti doesn't take me seriously. Every day he schemes to thrust me and that vapid prattler he dotes on to be together."

"Maybe you need me to chaperone," Erestor offered. "I've thousands of years of experience and the dwarves part for me like I'm carrying the plague."

"I'm sure that is beneath your station, but I may be forced to accept." Thorin vented in disgust. "For over a century I hated all elves; now I find Thranduil to be my only bane. Oh, and that spoiled son of his. He acts too much like his father."

Erestor laughed, "You find that sentiment common among elves also. Lord Círdan has threatened Thranduil many times; for you see, Thranduil, married his great niece."

"Maybe I'll get lucky and watch Lord Círdan put Thranduil in his place." The thought caused him to smile.

* * *

Haldir led the caravan over the bridge fording River Running and onto a road running along the east side of Long Lake. Dale and Erebor were hidden from this angle until they reached the end of the lake and started the steep climb.

Three days later, Fengel, being at the head of the line, was first of men to ride onto the plain and he gasped. A town was to their left and straight ahead two of the tallest statues he ever saw; dwarfing a door of iron. He looked at Haldir. "I was beginning to think you were leading us in a circle."

Haldir listened to exclamations of shock and awe as horses and mules pulled heavily loaded wagons onto the plateau. He had orders to stop in Dale, but saw tiny figures on the rampart and knew dwarves would be on hand to meet them when they arrived. He kept an eye on the doors and watched them swing out and several rams carrying dwarves raced to Dale. Haldir led them to a square in the center of town and saw evidence of repairs in all quarters. He pulled up before Bard and the dwarves.

"Welcome to Dale. I am King Bard and this is my chief steward, Lord Theigard. He will direct the unloading, but first let me introduce Lord Balin and Lord Dori of Erebor." He pointed to two dwarves standing proudly beside Theigard.

"Do you have ah list of inventory, laddie?" Balin asked Fengel.

"Since this elf hasn't the decency to introduce me, I'll do so myself. I am King Fengel of Rohan. I personally oversaw delivery of your supplies when details of your great need reached my ears."

Balin crossed his arms and looked at the king with a doubtful expression, but opted not to challenge what he considered an outright lie.

"I have a letter for King Thráin," Haldir stated before anyone else issued an order. "I was instructed to hand it to him personally." He refrained saying who the sender was in public.

Balin swiveled his head to Dori. "Take him to the mountain. I have things here."

Dori jumped on the back of a saddled ram and motioned for Haldir to accompany him.

Bard wasn't sure the next step and looked down to Balin. "What do we do now?"

Fengel snorted in disgust. "You call yourself a king and don't know what to do and have to ask a dwarf?"

Balin smiled back at Bard, "Don't worry, laddie, I'll be here an won't let the king of Rohan swindle you for more than this load is worth. Besides, we are paying for half and my word is as if Thráin spoke."

"And how can a lord claim rights only bestowed upon the sovereign?" Fengel challenged in disbelief. He saw a tattered group of people gathering behind this Bard and wondered at his allowing commoners to press in.

"I am chief advisor to the king," Balin clarified and subtly took over. "I believe I asked for an inventory before we unload. I'm sure your drivers and guards would like this over with so they can see the sites of Dale."

Fengel motioned and Scumper fetched a leather pouch from the saddlebags of his horse and handed it to Fengel. The king untied the string and pulled a handful of papers. He handed them to Balin. "It is sorted by wagon if you want to verify."

"Theigard and I will personally check each wagon as it's unloaded." He looked at Bard. "Permission to place the lot in your large storage building and take our portion to the mountain later?"

Bard nodded and motioned the drivers forward.

Fengel just as swiftly held his hand up to keep them in place. "A little matter of my pay."

"You'll get every coin as soon as your cargo matches this," Balin retorted and held his hand up with the papers firmly in his grasp.

Fengel met his eyes and backed down. He moved his horse out of the way and let the wagons roll past through town lined with eager faces. He looked at stone buildings still in various stages of repair as he followed behind his own pack horses. When he finally rode his horse into a massive stone building the first wagon was being unloaded. To his utter surprise and amazement, it wasn't men doing the work, but a line of dwarves and they were tossing fifty pound bags of grain from one to the other as if tossing a ball. In his seventy two years he never saw a dwarf in action this way. In a few minutes the first wagon was pulled away and the next pointed to where it was to be unloaded. Balin was holding a sheet and counting just as fast as the workers could toss. Fengel didn't notice he had company until Bard spoke.

"Takes getting used to. They may be short, but they are stronger than we are. During the Battle of Five Armies, they could cave the side of an orc with one swing of their Warhammers."

Fengel glanced swiftly to Bard and then back to watch. "This battle? I was briefly told about it in a letter from Lord Celeborn. I would like to hear more."

"We have accommodations for you in my home," Bard offered. "I agreed with King Thráin to keep you here and do a day visit with him before you leave."

Fengel snorted, "I am instructed to stay here until all the blasted dwarves arrive. Lord Celeborn is with King Thranduil as I speak and ordered me thus." He saw Bard give him a surprised look.

"I didn't expect the great lord to come this way again in my lifetime," Bard stated in surprise. "He would only come if there is to be another battle."

"You seem to know a lot about elves," Fengel scoffed.

"I spent several days with them in meetings," Bard replied. "I found Lord Celeborn to be so respected and commanding that when he uttered anything, all elves would stop talking and listen intently to him."

"Naturally his subjects are expected to do so. Hardly the mark of a great leader," Fengel disparaged, still smarting from his encounter.

"Those present were Lord Elrond and his lords and King Thranduil and the wizard Gandalf and several dwarves with their king," Bard explained and smiled slightly at the raised eyebrows.

"Gandalf was there?" He had dealings with the wizard who acted like he was in charge of Middle Earth. If anyone could order Celeborn, it would be that wizard. "I take it Gandalf was in charge?"

"Nobody was in charge. We did meet in King Thranduil's tent and he sat at one end of the table and usually Lord Elrond the other. I did find out that Lord Elrond has the highest unspoken ranking in the third age and Lord Celeborn the highest overall, but they only go by lord and not king. Thranduil is subservient to Celeborn, as are all elves. It was amazing, but nobody claimed dominance."

"You mean that pompous ass, Celeborn, didn't rule the meeting like he does my realm?"

Bard now understood Fengel's issue with Celeborn. "They were in my realm and acted accordingly," he slightly embellished. They switched topics until the last wagon entered a now crowded storehouse.

"We are done," Balin sang out as he scurried across the stone floor to them. He looked at Fengel. "Your accounts are accurate and I sent a messenger to the mountain for our share and also yours, Bard. I hope you don't mind that I snagged Bain to act as your emissary."

Bard issued a slight smile. "He has to learn." He looked at Fengel. "He is my son and heir."

"I have a son and heir who shirked his duty and ran off to Gondor to live with his mother's family," Fengel stated frostily. "He refuses to come and learn under me; preferring to assist the steward of Gondor. He spends much time with Gandalf when he winters in the south and they shirk our language for that of the elves."

"I insist my son learn that language," Bard softly spoke. "He is young enough to absorb it and I sent him to the mountain for lessons when an elf from Rivendell stayed for the winter. He came home nightly and taught his sisters so they can speak a language I cannot." Bard looked around and the last wagon was pulling away. "Come, my lords, I have wine from Thranduil's halls."

"You speak the elven tongue?" Fengel asked the dwarf marching at his side.

Balin smiled up at him, "I learned it a long time ago. I traveled for my king and knowing the languages helped me pass unmolested."

* * *

Dori and Haldir rode into the mountain and dismounted. Dori led the way up a flight of stairs and past several guards. He knocked on a heavy wooden door. It opened to a dwarf.

Haldir knew what Thráin looked like and the one who answered wasn't it.

"Picket, is his majesty in?"

"Yes." The dwarf opened the door for them to pass and they stepped into a large office fit for a king and Picket left them alone.

Thráin looked up from his papers as Dori and Haldir approached.

"I have a letter from Lord Celeborn for you," Haldir abruptly stated. He was ill at ease in a mountain full of dwarves and knew his lord didn't trust or allow them inside his borders. He also knew King Thráin was the sole exception.

Thráin reached out his hand across the large desk and received an envelope with Celeborn's stamp. Breaking the seal and holding it closer to the light, he read:

 _King Thráin,  
My lady sends her thanks for the gifts and my granddaughter included a note with mine. It is your generosity that brings me north to Thranduil's lair to wait the arrival of your kin. There will be an attack by Sauron. We believe it will be prior to them reaching your gates. Elrond is escorting them from Imladris with his army. Also, Lord Fárin is leading a band of three thousand and not far ahead of Elrond. Together, we will once again defeat the forces of Sauron. Celeborn_

Thráin shuffled papers and Arwen's was on top.

 _My dear friend,  
I know I should use proper salutations when addressing king of all dwarves, however, after your generous gift and our time together, I can no longer think of you only as a distant king in a far away mountain. I was stunned at the beauty of the gems and was told you personally chose them for us. Daernaneth loves her gifts and says Mahal chose poorly in not making you a reincarnated Durin. The fact my daeradar went so willingly to assist you, speaks volumes. He hasn't lifted a hand of friendship to dwarves since the First Age. I eagerly await news of your kingdom and will remember you fondly always. Your elven friend, Arwen_

Thráin smiled at the use of Sindar Cirth on both pages. He looked at Haldir, who was now seated when Dori insisted. "Are you going directly to Celeborn?"

"I will report directly to him upon arrival at King Thranduil's halls," Haldir tersely answered.

"Dori, give our guest a glass of wine while I write a response." Not waiting to see if his orders were carried out, he reached into a drawer and pulled a clean, expensive sheet of parchment.

 _Lord Celeborn,  
Should your granddaughter ever find her travels close to Erebor, I would consider it grave insult should she not visit. I would request you send Elrond to me to thank him personally, but I fear he will try and charge for his escort services and he isn't getting one barrel of wine beyond our agreement. Your word is honorable as I knew it would be and the supplies are being offloaded as I write. I would be honored with a visit from you so I can express my thanks over a meal complete with fine wine in my halls. Of course, bring Thranduil and Elrond when he arrives. And I expect to see Elrond's lords and sons, as they have been titled dwarf friend. Regards, Thráin II_

He quickly folded the paper into an envelope and dripped wax from a candle onto the flap and pressed his ring to seal. Taking another sheet, he quickly scrawled a note to his neighboring king.

 _King Thranduil,  
Greetings from under the mountain. Old Forest Road will soon be bursting with dwarves. I extended an invitation to Lord Celeborn to feast in my halls once my dwarves are home and of course you are most welcome. I will pay for their traveling your lands when you come. Bring your ledgers and we will compare figures, tell lies and argue over a fair amount._

 _Gandalf should be getting close and a raven came stating they will reach the eastern shores of Long Lake in about four days, so will be first to arrive. The raven stated a large band of orcs and wargs are following, but not overtaking. I expect they might mount an attack near the lake and am sending my army led by Dáin to guide them in. They are in a blackout that I live and my soldiers will be ordered not to let my presence slip, as I have unpleasant business with Lord Dóvad of Jötunheim. Regards, Thráin II_

Haldir sipped the fine wine and kept his eyes on the king. He saw the dwarf out of the corner of his eye also waiting.

Thráin handed him the two messages after he placed the recipient's names on each. "I would appreciate if ye hurried directly ta Thranduil an Celeborn with these messages, laddie." He turned to Dori. "When ye have seen our guest out, find Dáin an tell him ta come here."

Haldir emptied his flute, rose and stalked out without speaking to the king.

Thráin watched in amusement.

* * *

"Ye got the army ready ta leave?" Thráin asked Dáin when he marched into the king's office without knocking and went straight to the ale. Thráin waited until Dáin sat opposite him and downed half the glass.

"Aye, we are waitin yer word," he growled. "I have ah favor ta ask ye."

"Does it have something ta do with young Thorin?" Thráin guessed with a smile on his face.

"Yes. He is kicking up ah fuss about going an I need ah babysitter."

Thráin chuckled, "I'll put him at my side an run his feet off with errands. It is way too dangerous ta have that many Durin's scattered over Middle Earth, knowing they are hunted by Sauron as we do. The lad just may be my heir if all goes wrong."

Dáin nodded seriously. "I don't need his mother worrying about him at this time."

"Did Roäc report?"

"Aye, I sent him flying over the caravan two days ago," Dáin conveyed with a grin. "I made Thorin speak with him an give me ah report an stayed in my office. The lad said Balin spoke for Bard an us. The wagons are now unloaded an men relaxing in the tavern just opened in Dale. They complained about the high prices for ah pint until it was pointed out it came from the Iron Hills. The king who led the caravan went in Bard's hall with Balin."

"Thorin is getting good at talking to the ravens," Balin commented from his place inside the door where he eavesdropped and moved to sit beside Dáin. "That's exactly what happened. The king is an unpleasant man, but we know that from dwarven trips to Rohan. He let it slip he tangled with Celeborn and we pried the story from him. The idiot is lucky to be breathing. He thinks he has seen the last of Celeborn, but I'm sure they will meet again; for King Fengel was ordered to stay in Dale until all the dwarves arrive and help if attacked."

"Do I have ta take him with me?" Dáin bemoaned.

"No, he and his men are staying in Dale," Balin supplied. "I passed the invitation ye offered along to him and Bard. They accepted and will dine here tomorrow night. Bard explained all his money was in our vault so he would have to wait until Bain carried a sack to him. I also instructed Lötun to take our share to the distrusting king. He is beginning to think we are stealing his supplies and might murder his people. Not a trusting sort at all."

"I'm glad to miss dining with him," Dáin spoke enthusiastically and rose, setting his empty tankard on the desk. "We'll leave before the sun so I'm turnin in early."

"Good luck," Thráin replied.

"Greet my brother with a kiss," Balin laughingly called after him.

Thráin laughed and handed Balin the notes Haldir delivered. "File these with important messages."

* * *

Elrond felt his son's fëas as they skirted the dwarven camp in favor of the elven one. That they were in his camp instead of with Erestor didn't surprise him. By the next afternoon they would be at the Anduin and Old Ford Bridge where the other group better still be waiting. "Have you eaten?" He asked when they swung down from their mounts.

"What do you have?" Elladan asked and looked into a pot by his father's fire. "I think a bowl of this and chunk of bread should keep us through the night."

"I'm not hungry," Elrohir announced and his father immediately jumped to his feet, hands reaching for his youngest son. He stood still and let his father's healing hands slide over his chest and stomach.

Glorfindel looked on with concern. Usually he could tell when one of the twins was pranking, but Elrohir really wasn't feeling well. Since elves didn't get sick, it must be something else. "Is that why you two came back?"

Elladan sobered all of the sudden. "Elrohir's fëa is off. He didn't want to return, but I insisted. We can't pin down his ailment."

Círdan and Taíban appeared from the dark and the elder spoke, "I thought I saw your horses, boys..." He trailed off when he saw what Elrond was doing.

"Iôn-nín, describe what you feel."

Now everyone at the fire crowded around. He wasn't bleeding or had broken bones and anything else would be rare, but he was part man, so had a greater risk he might succumb to an illness.

Elrohir thought hard about how he really felt. "I'm weary and achy. Not like when we overdo it, but bone tired weariness. I have no strength. I'm not in pain, but feel a burning in my nose."

"Did you eat anything strange?" Elrond asked.

Elrohir thought of all he ate in the dwarven camp. "The dams brought us a pot of porridge with berries in it this morning."

"We all ate it and I'm fine," Elladan protested. "Erestor had some."

"Wait..," Elrohir protested and all eyes bore into him. "They asked if we wanted toppings and I was the only one who accepted."

"That's right," Elladan remembered. "What did it taste like?"

"Nuts and cinnamon. It was good."

"We need to find out what nuts they used," Elrond decided. "Maybe it was of a variety you've never had and are having a reaction."

"All I want to do is go to bed," Elrohir acknowledged.

Elrond took him to his own tent, glad Estel was already sound asleep in another tent with his mother, just in case it was contagious to humans."

Glorfindel shooed Figwit out of the tent and rolled Elrohir's bedroll on the ground.

"I want him on my cot," Elrond commanded.

"I was making your bed," Glorfindel laughingly retorted.

"I'm stealing yours. You sleep on the ground," Elrond quipped back as he pulled his son's boots off.

"Take mine. I'll sleep under the stars." Glorfindel exited the tent, leaving Elrond to fuss over his son.

"Will he really be okay?" Elladan asked when Glorfindel joined them at the fire.

"I'll take a trip to Taniquetil and inquire of the Valar. Elrond would sail if anything happened to either of you and Middle Earth be hanged."

"Arwen isn't ever sailing, is she?" Elladan quietly asked and those at the fire looked stunned; all but Glorfindel. "You know she dies."

"What is he saying?" Círdan asked quietly.

"Celeborn was going to send you a letter this spring to make a ship ready, but Galadriel overrode him. If Arwen stays; she dies."

"Elrond's burden is greater than all in Middle Earth," Círdan sympathized.

"He loves his daughter, but to have a son…," Glorfindel trailed off looking sheepish.

"My son died fighting the last known vampire at Tol-in-Gaurhoth at the beginning of the war. He was way too young to die; like so many we lost, but I take pride in the fact he did succeed in his mission and his death wasn't for naught."

Glorfindel nodded. "I remember him when I journeyed to Falas with Fingolfin and Turgon on a supply run for Gondolin. Your wife never recovered did she?"

Círdan shook his head. She longed to sail to the west and I loved sailing, but on this side. She took our daughter and left at the end of the war. Like you, Glorfindel, I had to sacrifice a personal relationship for this land."

Glorfindel seemed lost in thought as he stared into the fire. "I freely chose adventure and felt cheated I was born in Amon and never saw these lands. What did you stay for?"

"Eönwë said my greatest days were ahead in Ennor. I would have sailed, but was asked to stay. When I told him I would, he gifted me like you with special insight. After receiving my gift, I understood why I must remain until all elves are gone from these shores. I am to be on the last boat and when I arrive, there will be a permanent sundering of the lands and we will fade into myth on this side of the sea."


	24. 24 The Gathering

Fræg quivered when word reached his cell that dwarves from Jötunheim were almost upon them. He did as the king ordered and found his days free; although a guard always accompanied him. He spotted the Durin's once in a while with their bevy of elite guards and once he spotted Thráin, with Dáin at his side and four guards, two fore and aft. He sank on a rock hard bed and formulated a story for Lord Dóvad.

In the king's chambers far above, Azie quietly knitted a baby blanket from the softest lamb's wool. She listened quietly as once again Dáin argued with their eldest.

"I have thousands of soldiers who don't dare backtalk," Dáin spoke sternly. "Ye want ta be one of them, yet act like the dwarfling ye are."

Azie could see that hit the mark and Thorin clamped his mouth tightly shut.

Dáin continued, "I only take warriors of age into battle. I know ye can best the average soldier, but they fought in the last battle an are seasoned."

"Ori fought," Thorin's tongue won the battle. "He isn't ah soldier, but ah librarian."

"I would take him over ye," Dáin decreed and saw disbelief in his son's eyes. "He is of age."

A welcome knock sounded and Dáin took the few steps and threw it open. He quickly stepped back and Thráin stalked in while his four guards took up posts outside the door.

Thráin smiled and addressed Azie first. "I welcome the lad ye most certainly will give this undeserving lord."

"He is already making me tired. If you need to speak privately with Dáin, I will welcome a chance to rest."

"Nay lass, I just stopped by ta lay out Thorin's duties while his father is gone."

Thorin's eyes went wide and he stood straighter when the king turned to him and spoke in Sindarin. "I hope you haven't forgotten all you learned."

Thorin quickly found his voice and returned in kind, "No, your honor, err, highness," he corrected and saw Thráin and his father grin at his blunder.

"Well, ye need more lessons with Ori," Thráin reverted to Khuzdul. "Tomorrow I have ta entertain the king from Rohan an ye will stand in for yer father."

"You mean I get ta sit in his place at the table?" Thorin asked excitedly.

"I don't see why not," Thráin agreed and knew it pleased both Dáin and Thorin. "Come ta my office after yer morning lessons in the ring an I'll tell ye what I expect of ye."

"But the army will be gone. I'm already sparing with trained soldiers an am way ahead of my age."

"Tomorrow, ye spar one on one with General Lötun." Thráin was glad years of training schooled his features into stone so he didn't burst out laughing at the myriad of emotions crossing young Thorin's face: fear, excitement and doubt.

"I'm sorry ta miss it," Dáin stated and happy his son seemed to forget his disappointment at not traveling with him.

"Thorin will give ye ah full report, as will Lötun. I've already spoken with him on what he is ta do."

Dáin nodded his acceptance.

* * *

A blast from a horn alerted Erestor that Elrond arrived. Dwarves made way for the larger group that was ready for a rest after tackling the Misty Mountains. The last few days were stressful under the elves command they mustn't stop until clear of Goblin-town. Weary animals rushed the river once they were unharnessed.

"We pushed through the night," Elrond explained to Erestor the scene before him. "I needed to get here for Elrohir's sake."

"He left here in fine condition. Did harm befall our elfling?" Erestor asked, concerned for Elrohir and his eyes scanned the arriving elves for him.

"He is sick," Elrond stated flatly.

Erestor looked shocked. "Elves don't get sick."

"He is one sick boy and getting worse. It's almost like he was poisoned. I want to speak with the dwarf who fed you breakfast the day they left. Elrohir said he had a topping you and Elladan didn't. Did any of our guards eat the topping?"

"I'll inquire," Erestor stated and saw Elrohir being helped from the back of a wagon and rushed to him. "Let me have him," he ordered.

"I don't know what is wrong with me, Erestor," Elrohir said and stood on wobbly legs.

"I hope it wasn't done on purpose," Glorfindel quietly stated from Elrohir's other side. "You know, a disgruntled dwarf targeting Celeborn's daeriôns."

A tent was hastily erected and Elrohir escorted inside and laid on a cot.

"I want to speak to the cooks who served you," Glorfindel ordered in a tone that had Erestor motioning for him to come.

They maneuvered through milling dwarves to an area near the river where food was being prepared.

"There," Erestor pointed to a group of dwarves, mostly female. "They cook for elves."

An elderly dam looked up when the sun was suddenly blocked. She saw two tall elves looking down at her. One she recognized, but the other was fair as morning sun and she wondered if he was elf or god. There was a shining about him.

"My good lady," Erestor began, "we would like to ask you about a topping for our porridge you served us."

"My secret topping!" she exclaimed and rooted in a bag, pulling a pouch of woven cotton. "Finest topping around."

"What do you make if from?" Erestor encouraged.

"Oh no, I'll not be sharing with elves my family secrets."

"How about this then. Has any other elves than Elrohir, eaten any?" Erestor tried persuasion of a friendly nature.

"I offered, but you finicky elves don't try anything new. That one elf; you know, the two I can't tell apart? One of them ate some and said it was very good."

"Well, he if very ill now," Glorfindel stated.

"I never meant to harm them, I swear," she defended and clutched the bag to her breasts, her beard slipping slightly as her actions tugged on it.

"I'm sure you didn't," Erestor soothed, "but we would like a sample for our healers to look at, and if you would talk to Lord Elrond, our head healer, we might find a cure for our ailing friend."

"I'm not in trouble, am I?" She asked with concern. "My husband is a soldier and won't be happy should ill come to me."

"I assure you, we will not harm you. Please, it is imperative that you hasten to our lord."

The dam looked around and hollered, "Itle, watch my pot. If I'm not back in half an hour, take it off the fire."

She let them escort her into the middle of many large tents elves used. A standard was flying before one of the tents and Erestor escorted her inside while Glorfindel went back to overseeing the warriors. She looked around at furniture that folded until her eyes lit on an elf lying on a cot, with another very tall elf standing over him.

"Elrond," Erestor spoke and the tall elf turned to them. "I bring the dam that has been so kind as to feed us."

Elrond smiled at her in hope the frightened look would fade from her eyes. "I understand you might have accidently given my son something his system cannot handle."

The dwarf held her pouch out to him and he took it immediately to a table and poured a small amount in a bowl. First he sniffed and looked and then turned back to her. "Tell me every ingredient and don't leave one out."

She listed all she gathered from the woods and vales around the White Mountains.

Círdan slipped inside behind her to listen and add his vast wisdom. She started and whirled about when he talked. "Elrond, the dried gavr fruit grows wild on the southern slopes of the White Mountains, but I bet your boys have never seen it before, unless they stumbled into some when Celeborn took them on that trip to the south when they were only five hundred. It is a berry that will cause men to die and elves suffer, but dwarves love it. It is a rare berry." He looked at the dam. "How did you come by some?"

"My husband was a soldier on a trip over the mountains to Anfalas and along the Lefnui River he and his group found many berries and picked several bushels. We dried them and due to their sweet, cinnamon taste, substitute for honey. Placed in moisture, they leech sweetness into our oats."

"Elves learned long ago to avoid that berry and since they only grow in extremely hot weather; they have all but passed from knowledge," Círdan stated to Elrond.

Elrond nodded, "I've never seen one." He looked in the bowl and fished a dark orange object out. "Is this it?"

The dam nodded. "I am from the White Mountains and my husband Erebor. I knew of the berries; for every fall trip over the mountains brought a bounty of them back and dwarves from there don't trade them."

"I doubt even Thorin Oakenshield knows this berry will kill a man and sicken an elf," Círdan explained to them and the dam looked worried. "You couldn't have known if you never share them."

"The elves treated us so nice, I thought to offer them a treat; that's all," she cried and Círdan patted her shoulder in comfort.

Elrond looked sober. "We'll see just how much man is in my son. Is there a cure?"

Círdan thought. "I'm not so sure the poison won't just have to work from his body. I was just a boy when our group encountered the berries. Many elves became sick, but we didn't have the knowledge back then of healing. All recovered in time and we marked the berries with a stone for danger."

The dam listened intently; for out of courtesy they spoke Westron. She added in disbelief, "You have the best healers in Middle Earth. I don't understand you saying you lacked knowledge back then."

Círdan smiled down upon her. "I am very aged. You do know elves don't die." At her nod, he added, "I am almost eight thousand years old. My parents woke at Cuiviénen and I was born there. It was the awakening of elves and we didn't have the knowledge that we now possess."

"He is being modest," Elrond stated. "He was the first elfling born there."

"I believe we are trying to help Elrohir," Círdan reminded him.

"Now that we know what he ate, I will consult with Galadriel and have Maiawë research his ancient written records since he is almost as old as you."

In that case, I will escort our helpful guest back to her kind," Círdan said lightheartedly, with a gesture for the dam to go with him.

Elladan pressed by Círdan, who stopped and waited for the report. "None of our warriors tried it. Seems like El was the only adventurous elf. I always tell you Adar, but will reinforce my opinion that I am your smarter, better looking son."

Elrond returned to Elrohir's side and sank onto a stool. "You are the son that is ahead of his brother by thirty wounds."

Círdan left, laughing softly and shaking his head. He looked down at the dwarf, "Elrond loves those two. He shows it with testy ripostes and complaints. Now his daughter on the other hand; he manipulates for his affections. It won't work with his son's." He didn't expect a comeback or the dwarf to fully comprehend his analysis.

"My husband and I have three sons. All fathers must treat their sons the same; for Lord Elrond didn't say one word my husband hasn't used in dealing with our boys."

Círdan left her by her fire and pot and wandered through the dwarves looking for Thorin. He found him with the lords from both mountain ranges. The moment they met and pleasantries over, Thorin started a meeting. Círdan stood just behind Gróin and listened.

"We are making too tempting ah target?" Lord Fárin was complaining.

"I agree with the elves," Thorin countered. "We make an easier target straggling in so orcs and wargs can pick us off. The elves are stretched thin guarding us now and your group doesn't have any. I've seen elves fight and they are worth having around when we travel."

"The Thorin I knew wouldn't give an elf the time of day," Hepti snorted in distain. "Ye've gone soft, lad."

"Or I've had a refresher recently in fighting the forces of Sauron; while your memories of Azanulbizar are growing dim," Thorin snarled right back. "As ranking Durin, the matter is settled." He looked at Garad and changed the subject. "Tell us about the band of orcs you encountered on top of the pass."

Confident Thorin had his dwarves under control; Círdan slipped away and back to the camp of elves.

* * *

Bard rode between Fengel and Scumper up the short road to Erebor. The doors swung out so they didn't break stride until inside the mountain. It was Fengel's first time inside a dwarven hall. Somehow he was under the impression they lived in caves and used crude torches for light with smoke billowing through tunnels with miners dirty from work, sleeping on the ground. He wasn't prepared for the light and vastness. His eyes traveled upward at massive pillars; all crafted from floor to ceiling with beautiful carvings. Following Bard's lead, he dismounted and a dwarf led his horse down an almost invisible tunnel by the door.

"He is taking them to the stables," Bard offered and turned to greet the waiting Balin. "I see you wasted no time in claiming the mountain's share from the warehouse."

Balin smiled at them warmly. "Welcome to Erebor, jewel of all dwarven halls currently occupied. I hope you are enjoying your stay, King Fengel."

Fengel nodded and was still craning his neck to absorb it all. He realized Balin was speaking to him. "This is impressive. I underestimated dwarves when they came to Edoras."

"Most other races do and because we prefer our mountain holes, they are left to form opinions not based in firsthand knowledge," Balin reasoned. He was used to explaining why dwarves were considered less than other races. "Come, the king is waiting to meet you." He led the way past guards to the throne.

Thráin sat on his throne with Thorin Stonehelm to his left and Balin's spot open on his right. Dori and Ori were standing just off to the right.

Fengel's eyes were caught and held by the Arkenstone, giving the dwarves ample time to study him.

"King Fengel, meet King Thráin II, a direct descendent of Durin I; supreme lord of Erebor and Moria and all dwarven halls." Done with his introduction, Balin ascended the short flight of steps and took his place at Thráin's right hand.

Fengel nodded his head politely, but didn't bow to another king. "King Thráin, I was utterly surprised when Lord Celeborn wrote of your resurrection from the dead and requested supplies. I had to see for myself that I wasn't being lied to by the elves."

"I am honored the king of Rohan made the journey. My third heir, Thorin Stonehelm," Thráin pointed to young Thorin, who stood tall. "You know Lord Balin, and to his right are Lord Dori and Lord Ori. They are also Durin's and my kin. Come, I will give a short tour on the way to my dining hall." Thráin rose and motioned his guests to follow.

Fengel noticed Bard warmly greeted all he was introduced to and they also trailed along. Thráin went down the stairs behind the throne and into the main hall with his gilded floor. He stopped in the middle of the floor and turned to watch Fengel's expression. "This is the main hall where large functions are held. I was crowned here not too long ago."

Fengel looked at more gold than he knew existed in all of Arda and saw it splashed several feet up the walls and pillars. "How thick is this floor?"

"Two ta three feet," Thráin supplied. "I think it adds ah nice touch this room was lacking. Thorin paved it with molten gold when fighting the dragon." Thráin reverted to his favorite jargon, done with being formal.

Fengel pointed to Thorin. "You did this?"

"No, my cousin, the king's son, Thorin Oakenshield," Thorin supplied and secretly wished it was of his doing.

"I heard the king say third heir. What does that mean to dwarves?"

"Same as men," Thráin answered. "My son Thorin is my heir and this Thorin's father, Lord Dáin Ironfoot is my second heir." Done with this area, Thráin led them on.

* * *

Fengel found the meat seasoned with pepper and to his liking. There were also mashed potatoes, carrots and green beans. He was surprised the dwarves consumed the same food as men and wondered what elves ate. He saw more dwarves at the table, but Thráin didn't introduce any of them. "Does that dwarf," he pointed at Thorin, "ever leave your side?" Thorin was seated to Thráin's left and the king sat at the end of a long dining table. Fengel was placed to Thráin's right and Balin next to him for easier conversation.

"He is filling in for his father. Dáin left early this morning with our army ta escort ah group of dwarves coming across the vast plains of Rhûn from the Red Mountains. Gandalf is leading that group an they should be here within four days."

"You expect trouble?" Fengel asked and suspected he might be called to action soon than he wanted.

"Sauron doesn't want dwarves back in this mountain. We don't know why an in all my long years in captivity, he never told me."

Fengel was intrigued. "You mean to tell me that Sauron talked with you? What does he look like?"

Thráin swallowed and reached for his tankard of ale to wash it down. "He doesn't have ah body, an is just energy that ye can see. I didn't look directly at him as it would drive one mad. It is ah form that keeps repeating over an over very rapidly an looks like it resides in blazing, eye hurting fire."

"Can he hurt you?"

"Oh yes. I saw him kill many times an he seemed ta gain in strength with each kill."

"Legend says he will be defeated by the king of Gondor. Will I live to see this king?" Fengel wanted him to say yes.

"That I don't know, an ah good question for the wizard when he arrives," Thráin deflected. He had long talks with Erestor who said the king might be born, but not to tell a living soul.

* * *

Gandalf veered them away from the river with instructions not to waste water for they had a week without. They entered a barren wilderness where grass for the animals was scarce. Now the animals were suffering on half rations and Lord Dóvad was furious. It was approaching dusk and they finally got relief from the hot sun on baked rock with very little scrub.

"Tell me again why starving my animals is ah good idea?" Dóvad thundered up at the wizard.

"We are being followed closely and I wish this journey over, master Dóvad," Gandalf explained with more patience than he was noted for. It was becoming a nightly ritual and the leaders gathered to hear his explanation of their progress. "We have been in sight of the mountain for three weeks and now can make out valleys and meadows. If we kept by the river, it would add a week and I'm sure you are as tired as me of the endless grind. Your wagons need repair and food is almost gone. We will be close enough to Erebor tomorrow to hale a raven with a message of our imminent arrival. I assure you, Lord Dóvad; tomorrow night we will be at water's edge."

"And where is this water?" One of Dóvad's lords asked.

"My good friend, we will be at Long Lake."

Dwalin, Nori and Óin exchanged looks of surprise. They had no idea they were that close, as they never traveled this way before. A horn sounded from their posted watch and they ran for their ponies to lead what was surely an attack by orcs.

Dwalin raced his pony up the hill and ordered, "What is happening?"

The guard pointed to the west. "I see a large army coming our way. We will be slaughtered if it be evil like that trailing."

Gandalf and the other leaders joined them and he looked closely at the figures in the distance. "Send a scout for numbers. I'm not sure at this distance what is coming, but they will intersect us after nightfall unless they make camp."

"Nori, with me," Dwalin ordered and spurred his pony forward.

They watched until they were specs.

"This open area fools ye," Óin commented. "They are further away than they appear."

Gandalf nodded.

Half the distance to them, Dwalin pulled up and looked at Nori. "What say you and I attack?"

Nori looked at him like he'd gone mad. "What say we run?"

"Naw, I'm attacking," Dwalin stated with a grin and dug his heels into his pony's sides. With a battle cry, he made for the oncoming army, Warhammer brandishing."

Nori took a closer look at what was going to kill his cousin and then laughed madly, and he too attacked.

* * *

"My lord, something approaches rapidly," an advance scout shouted to Dáin.

"How many something's?" Dáin called back.

"Umm, two."

"Let them come, as long as they don't have ten thousand warriors behind them," Dáin instructed and motioned his army to keep moving.

Dwalin rode hard by the advance scout and saluted with his Warhammer on his way to Dáin, who laughed in glee. Nori was a few paces behind.

"Dwalin, Nori, good ta see ye lads. We are yer welcome committee."

"And ah welcome sight you are," Dwalin thundered. "We have ah few hundred orcs and wargs on our heels. We figure they won't let us reach the mountain without attacking." He fell into step with Dáin's ram on one side and Nori took the other.

"How close to your group are we?" Dáin asked.

"Gandalf ordered camp with what is left of our firewood and said we'll be at Long Lake tomorrow."

Dáin nodded. "We camped along the shores last night an caught some of the biggest lake trout ye ever saw. My army will be happy ta hear tomorrow night will be ah repeat."

"We hit several streams, rivers and lakes that hadn't been fished in a long time and we ate well for much of the way," Dwalin rejoined. "What's the situation in the mountain?" He changed the subject.

"My army knows not ta breath one word about Thráin. I escaped in time ta avoid meeting the king of Rohan. I'm told he is as difficult here as when dwarves visit Edoras. The elves are coming an expect ah battle like last year. Lord Celeborn is already camped out with Thranduil an the men of Rohan have been ordered ta stay until all dwarves are inside the mountain. Lord Fárin is leading the White Mountain Longbeards."

"That's ah fair amount of welcome news," Nori spoke up.

Dáin chuckled. "But not all. Azie is going ta give me another dwarfling."

"That's great," Dwalin slapped him on the back with the Warhammer while Nori added his congratulations.

"When the scouts failed to return with a report, I scouted for myself." The thunderous voice of Gandalf boomed from the dark and he rode up to them and they could just make out each other's faces. He broke into a broad grin. "Master Dáin, how good of you to come and join our merry band."

"Ye just keep Sauron's pets off our backs, Gandalf, an I may let ye live ta Erebor," Dáin mock threatened.

"Come now, Dáin, I've led this far without incident, but think I'll turn the guarding over to you and your army. They are of your kind after all," Gandalf joked back.

"Dáin says the elves are gathering to fight for us," Dwalin supplied the information to Gandalf before Dáin broke the news.

Gandalf was close enough to contact Galadriel, but didn't want to disturb her with petty dwarven problems and other than trailing orcs, had no real news and was interested. "Who and where?"

"Celeborn is at Thranduil's," Dáin answered. "Before I left the elf Haldir gave ah message ta…." he paused, "nobody is supposed ta know about Thráin in this band."

"I assure you they are none the wiser," Gandalf reassured him.

"Good, where was I…..oh yes, the elf gave ah message that said Celeborn was with Thranduil an Elrond on his way."

Gandalf processed with rapid speed and drew a conclusion. "The trailing orcs are waiting for something to help them. I would guess if Elrond is coming, they will be fighting Nazgûl, and most likely at the gates of Erebor again. Sauron will have learned from his mistakes and made adjustments."

"Let them come," Dáin snapped. "I missed the flying undead last round an hanker ta see them."

"Well, I don't," Gandalf snapped in irritation. It was always the same; dwarves fled to violence as fast as sane beings ran.


	25. 25 Galadriel Gambles

Maiawë took the steps that wrapped around Caras Galadhon's largest and tallest tree three at a time. He nodded to the guards at the last flight of steps and burst into the Hall of Celeborn. He looked around, not really expecting to find Galadriel here this hour of the morning.

"You look to be on a mission," Emoth stated from his side. He approached the moment Maiawë's fëa reached out for someone.

"I need to see our lady," Maiawë abruptly stated without pleasantries.

' _Escort Maiawë to my personal chambers,'_ Galadriel spoke into Emoth's mind.

"This way," Emoth said and hurried down the long hall and through a corridor with a ramp that wrapped around yet more of the tree, stepping ever upward. Before a door, Emoth knocked.

"Enter."

Emoth bowed his head to Maiawë as he opened the door and departed the direction they came.

Maiawë didn't visit this room often and a thought passed he hadn't been inside for several centuries. Ignoring his natural curiosity, he hastened to where Galadriel was standing before a table with many sketches laid out.

"My lady, it took all night of digging through scrolls fragile with age, but I found my notes. Elves develop a fever and chills for about a week with unfortunate side effects of liquid stool. When the Edain first ate the berries, they died and word spread far and wide not to eat the bright orange berries. They used them in poisoning their enemies. Over time encounters disappeared from our records until even we forgot. There is no written account of a Peredhil eating them."

Galadriel listened intently to the aged healer. "I'm sure Elrond is doing everything he can. There are ways to flush the blood?"

"Elrond is as a more gifted healer than I, my lady. I'm sure he is doing that."

"Then we wait. My mirror has been silent for over a week, so I am not allowed to know if my daeriôn is to die. It is as when Celebrían was attacked."

Maiawë listened to her tone of vulnerability and inability to change the outcome. This wasn't the strong Galadriel he knew and respected and he cursed his luck of standing before her instead of her wrapped in the comforting arms of her mate. All he could offer was medical advice. "Do you wish a draught to ease your burdened fëa?"

She lifted her eyes off the sketches and paintings for the first time and he saw tears glistening in her eyes. "My pain cannot be eased with healing herbs. I would rush to Elrohir's side and lend my strength, but Arwen would not remain behind this trip either. I cannot put her in danger so close to last time. Elrond is on his own."

"May I be of further assistance?" Maiawë offered.

She dropped her gaze back to the table. "You reaffirmed what my memory remembered. To sacrifice so much of your time on behalf of my daeriôn is noble." With effort she looked up again and forced a smile through watery eyes.

Maiawë bowed his head that he understood and departed. Normally he didn't pay much attention to those who waited upon Celeborn and Galadriel, but as he passed through the great hall, his eyes fell upon Azthêla. "My lady, a word," he requested.

Azthêla started when she realized who was addressing her. "My lord Maiawë; my time is yours."

"I left Galadriel in an unhappy state….," he started to explain and was cut off.

"Celeborn?"

"No, one just as dear though. I was going to suggest Arwen be found to keep her company today."

"As you wish." She watched him hurry away and wondered what happened now. Her first duty was to find Arwen; who she was certain was with that young prince in the paddocks.

She found them on horseback swinging swords at each other while the horses did a dance for dominance and flinched when Arwen took a blow from the more experienced Legolas that almost unseated her. Instead of backing off, Arwen charged her horse into Elneth and hit Legolas' ribs with the butt of Hadhafang5.

Legolas back off rubbing his sore spot. "I'm sure that isn't an elf maneuver."

"Someday I'll ask Melian if it is a Maia trick," Arwen replied gleefully.

"It's more of a sneaky, underhanded elleth trick," Legolas spat back and sent healing to his side. "Next time I'll wear my armor, as I insisted you do."

Seeing a pause, Azthêla called out, "Lady Arwen, a moment if you please."

Arwen grinned at Legolas. "We'll meet here again." She spurred her horse to Azthêla. "I am done." She dismounted and turned her favorite horse over to a stable elf.

"Your daernaneth is troubled."

Arwen reached out with her fëa. "I was so caught up in trying to impress Legolas that I didn't pay daernaneth any mind. I'm bathing and will join her for lunch by the lake." She paused to think and Azthêla waited patiently; for she sensed Arwen wasn't done. "Have the cooks prepare a salad and bread fresh from the oven. We won't need more than a light repast. I know when daernaneth is troubled she hardly eats."

"I can smell a bath is in order and know your daernaneth won't allow such aromas, even in the open air, while she dines," Azthêla commented and they parted to their individual tasks.

* * *

Azthêla joined them at the table upon Galadriel's invitation and they ate in silence, which was unusual, given the planning and making of Arwen's wedding ensemble topped all priorities within the city.

"Forgive me," Galadriel finally said. "I am worried and that is no reason not to enjoy our meal and company."

"Can you tell us?" Arwen asked.

Galadriel sighed. "Your brother, Elrohir, has eaten some berries that are fatal to men and harmful to elves."

"Oh no," Arwen gasped in horror, "how is he?" News of a brother in danger always brought anguish to her and one of the many reasons she lived with her protective grandparents.

"Sick. Also, your adar is leading the dwarves of Ered Luin to the mountain and they are camping at Old Ford Bridge as I speak."

"Let's ride to them."

Galadriel shook her head, "The time is not now."

Arwen and Azthêla looked at each other. It was custom for elves to speak thus, but not knowing what wasn't now, irritated both of them."

Galadriel suddenly gave a bright smile. "Your brother is in the best of hands, so we will continue designing and selecting gems for your wedding jewelry. Also, we must make a matching pendent set for your cloaks that is unique. I have some ideas."

"Daernaneth," Arwen's tone took on an independent lilt. "I am going to my brother's side. Should he die and I not present; I would never forgive myself. Don't give me any elven doublespeak. I'm leaving in an hour." She shoved half a hot buttered roll in her mouth, blue eyes flashing.

Galadriel took a bite of her salad and contemplated her granddaughter and if meeting the boy would change events. She wished the Valar would give her a sign, for she would surely make the wrong choice without their guidance.

"I could muster a group to leave in an hour if I'm allowed to go also," Azthêla slyly suggested.

Galadriel pivoted her piercing gaze upon her personal servant. "If we go and I'm wrong, events could be altered for the worst." She saw two faces drop in disappointment. "I'll make a deal with you. After we eat, I'll check my mirror one more time. If it imparts a dim future, we will not go. Agreed?"

"Do we have a choice," Arwen grumbled.

"Just in case, place Emoth in charge of my realm and ask Legolas to come with us."

"I'm done eating." Arwen jumped up and ran through the trees in a direct line to the city.

Galadriel looked at her unappetizing food and also rose. "Stay and enjoy your meal."

Azthêla rose. "I wouldn't with the excitement of getting ready for a trip."

* * *

For fifteen minutes Galadriel watched, half praying for a sign, but taking darkness as her answer and she started to turn away when it came to life. She saw her beloved grandson weak and lying on a cot. Elrond was looking at his medicines and shaking his head. The scene changed to a labeled container; at which healing house, she wasn't sure, but the name was printed and she knew the Valar was giving permission. She would go to Elrohir and comfort him with necessary medicine. She turned to find Emoth patiently waiting a respectable distance away. "I will contact Elrond and have him wait for us. You are in charge and if you need assistance, you can rely on Maiawë's experience. Rush to him with a message that Elrond requires medicines to treat and restore a damaged bowel." She brushed by him and raced up the steps; not stopping until in her bedchamber. Azthêla was present and waiting. "We leave as soon as I can pack."

"I already have anticipated that might be your answer," Azthêla confessed and pointed to several soft bags ready to be placed on the horses.

"And you know what I will need?" Galadriel challenged.

"I've packed for you for four thousand years. If I missed anything, you can fire me and I'll sail," Azthêla saucily replied.

Galadriel smiled. "I'll grab a few gifts and assorted jewelry." She snagged an empty bag off a chair and disappeared to the second inside bedroom.

* * *

Legolas marched through warriors he selected for the impromptu trip. He didn't think to refuse; although he figured they would end up back at his father's kingdom and forced feelings of dread to the back of his mind. He was working for Galadriel this trip was his mantra. He was nervous ensuring everything was perfect and they didn't forget anything vital. He watched servants lead saddled horses into the area and knew who was riding them so hurried to take the reins. "I'll check these," he offered. He checked cinches and leather for wear and made sure the saddles were tight.

"Your fastidious inspection of our horses is noted and appreciated." Galadriel looked around the paddock. "Did you only include horses from the Riddermark?"

"Yes. Emoth was most thorough in his instructions and Lord Maiawë personally brought a pack with your medicines. He says Elrond will know how to use everything." He looked at her attire. "I've never seen that pattern on a set of armor."

Galadriel sported obvious Mithril material, but the design was foreign to the younger elf. "The designs are common on the armor in my adar's house on the front and my naneth's family on the back."

Legolas watched her mount and got a good look at her back. The tooling depicted a city and harbor with swan boats. "I see Mithril is the material. What was your first armor like?"

"My adar commissioned my first set of armor when I wouldn't stop competing with my brother's in everything; including sports and weapons training. He placed his city of Tirion on the front and my naneth's city of Alqualondë on the back and I've kept that pattern, as it reminds me of home. The other etchings are representatives of both realms. It was one of a kind back then because my brothers only used our adar's designs."

Arwen and Bethíel, her personal servant, rushed to their horses.

"I'm not used to waiting for elleth," Legolas commented.

Galadriel flashed him a bright smile and led them through the gate and around the base of the earthen city wall to the north.

* * *

"You haven't said a word after shocking Uncle Garad speechless when requesting my presence for a walk," Gerti gently teased her companion. She glanced back to see their chaperones were her mother and Garad.

"I am using you," Thorin honestly confessed. "It was either you or that insipid lass, Arlie, that Uncle Fárin is pushing at me." He glanced sideways at her short, stocky figure and fair complexion. "You are the oldest lass and I'm sure father will choose you."

"I'm sorry."

He looked at her in surprise. "Why?"

"If you wanted me; I was available fifty years ago for the taking. I'll marry you out of duty to the Durin line, but ours won't be a marriage of passion. You'll thaw enough to perform on your wedding night and maybe each time you are pressed into a fathering another Durin, but I will never feel your arms around me on cold winter nights or have you laugh when I tell you what the dwarflings did that day." She looked wistful. "The ballads future generations will sing of you will be of growing up in poverty and working in blacksmith shops."

He snorted, "I would prefer to be remembered as a great warrior who took down Smaug and reclaimed Erebor. I'm sure my wife will be a forgotten name."

"Most dwarrowdams are, including Durin's. Your wife will have to memorize the lines of all males and females?"

"Back four generations," Thorin clarified. "Arli is already trying to memorize them to sway my father with her knowledge."

Gerti looked towards the mountains. "Rain is almost upon us."

Thorin looked at a wall of black obscuring the peaks and closing on them. "I better get you under cover." He escorted her to her uncle and mother.

"Fárin gave me ah dirty look when we strolled by his camp," Garad announced with a gleam in his eyes. "I pointed out ya asked my niece ta walk with ye."

"I'm sure he will repay in kind next time I'm forced to walk with Arli," Thorin replied and with a nod of his head to Gerti's mother, Gurni, hurried in the direction of the elves.

From the edge of elven tents, Elladan watched Thorin stride rapidly in their direction and intercepted his path. "Thorin, how nice of you to join us. We are about to eat and you are most welcome to share our repast."

"I came to inquire about Elrohir," Thorin evaded, not sure he was up to elven greens.

"He is weak and burning with fever. Also, he is wearing a diaper," Elladan leaned over and whispered the last.

"You seem in good spirits for having a sick brother." Thorin wasn't sure Elladan wasn't covering a mountain of worry.

"Adar said the worst is over, but little brother will have a bed in a wagon until we get to Thranduil's."

"He's going to be mean." Thorin chuckled.

Elladan laughed with him. "Adar thinks we will fight Sauron's forces again. He already commented to El that he shouldn't go into battle." He laughed again. "El tried to get off the cot to face him down and soiled himself with the effort. I know he will be in any battle and woe to any foul thing he encounters."

Thorin sobered. "We didn't know the berries could kill or sicken. Did you hear from the witch?"

Elladan nodded enthusiastically. "Daernaneth, Arwen and Legolas are headed in our direction and will be here in a day or two. Adar said we wouldn't enter Mirkwood until they arrive."

"Thorin, Elladan," Fili acknowledged them as he and Kili joined them. "We just got in from patrol and from the looks of the sky, just in time."

"We need to eat before it rains and puts the fires out," Kili stated to Thorin.

Thorin looked at Elladan, "Have enough for them also? And we will refuse if all you're eating is green things."

Elladan looked at the two soberly and anyone else would have thought he was sizing them up for a kill. "We have boiled orc."

"Sounds deeeliicciious," Fili replied smugly, while Kili smirked.

Elladan motioned for them to follow and led the way deeper into the circle of elven tents. He pushed the flap of a tent aside and led the way. Several elves were setting dishes on a table and even more were sitting on chairs talking softly.

"Good of you to join us, Prince Thorin," Círdan called out. "Boys, welcome," he added when he saw Fili and Kili.

"I hope we're not intruding?" Thorin queried and looked around. The tent was much like Thranduil's, but the furnishings not as garish and he guessed it might be the mariner's tent.

"Tonight we feast. Glorfindel shot a stag and our cooks made enough stew to feed elves for a couple days. I understand dwarves are pulling large carp from the river and other fish?"

Thorin nodded and took the plate of stew with a thick slice of fresh buttered bread on the edge and realized he was hungry and this looked good. Taking a seat in the circle of elves, he took a bite before answering. He saw the boys and Elladan grab plates and leave. He had a suspicion by the two Elladan was carting that they would eat with the sick elf. "Food here is plentiful. When we entered Mirkwood last time, there wasn't any food in the dense forest."

Círdan nodded grimly. There are mushrooms if you know where to look, but lack of sunlight and spiders drives most game away. We checked supplies and are getting low. The jerky will be all dwarves have to eat for the week it will take us to get through to the other side. I'm told if we keep going; we'll be at Erebor in two weeks."

Thorin nodded around a bite. "We traveled with far less when running from the dragon. We were so hungry, we ate moss, grass and weeds. We dug every cattail tuber we could find and chewed on them while we walked."

"We ate off the land during both major wars," Taíban added. "I've eaten lots of cattail roots."

* * *

Elrohir sat on the edge of his cot while his adar perched on a stool and fed him. He had a blanket bunched around his waist. "No chunks," he protested. "I want the gravy."

Elrond pushed potatoes and vegetables to one side and scooped thickened gravy into his son's mouth.

"When will this pass?" Elrohir whined.

"Just think of the paper I'm going to write with you as my subject," his father commented, ignoring the complaint. "Your daernaneth and sister are on their way and they can take over tending you."

"Oh no," Elrohir raised his voice in anger and heard Elladan and the dwarves laugh. "I'm not having them bathe and fuss over me. You I can tolerate."

"Thank you," Elrond dryly replied.

"You know what I mean," Elrohir muttered. "This is embarrassing and I don't want to have an accident in front of them."

"Your daernaneth is bring much needed herbs from the south and you will show her and your sister only love and respect," Elrond ordered; his tone and eyes hardening.

"You know I will," Elrohir sullenly responded and got another spoonful shoved in his mouth.

A clap of thunder harkened driving rain without the gentle warning of a first few drops. The flap flipped open just as the deluge hit and before Elladan could move to reattach it, Glorfindel and Erestor entered.

"Galadriel will not like traveling in the rain. We might not see her for days," Glorfindel commented as he shed his cloak and laid it across a chair to dry.

"Do you want me to take over so you can eat?" Erestor asked of Elrond.

"He is done." Elrond looked at his son. "Sure you don't want a solid piece?"

Elrohir looked at the plate. "One bite of bread." He reached for it, but Elrond was faster.

"Save your strength, iôn-nín." He watched Elrohir take one small bite and shake his head and lie back on the cot.

Elrond rose off the stool and traded places with Erestor. He looked at the almost full plate, sat at the table and started eating. "I used to feed you off my plate when you were elflings just learning to eat solid food. That is when I could wrest you away from your daerodhrons."

"I'm sure naneth was relieved. How she managed to feed both of us, I'll never know," Elladan retorted, his mind conjuring up a memory of his slender mother and he felt a pang of remorse that his actions caused her to suffer so.

"She got lots of enforced rest, like your brother. You know, forcing rest upon Elrohir was not unlike helping your naneth recover."

"Is he up to a short visit from me?" Thorin asked.

Elrond threw a look across the tent and Erestor nodded back. "Yes. Erestor was about to place him in a healing sleep, but he is still awake."

Thorin rose and stepped to Elrohir's side. He nodded a silent thanks to Erestor, who vacated the stool and joined the others at the table. "As highest ranking dwarf here; I offer an apology on behalf of the dam who hadn't a clue she was harming you. I have issued an order that no berries be used by dwarves for the remainder of the trip. They are to be gifted to my father for his personal enjoyment."

"Thank you," Elrohir managed weakly. "I swear I heal faster from an injury than this toxin."

"You don't have to tell me about the discouragement of being infirm. I've had my share these past six months. I for one, hope for my next calamity is death in old age."

"I don't have any hard feelings against dwarves for what I freely partook."

"And I'm learning to put my distrust and hatred of elves aside as well. My father showed me what true sacrifice was. He had reason to be bitter for us not searching harder and the years of hardship he suffered, but he doesn't. I don't know if I can ever be civil to Thranduil or his spawn, but won't hold the rest of you culpable."

"Excuse me, Prince Thorin, but Elrohir was given medicinal herbs that must accompany sleep for them to be effective," Erestor gently broke in.

Thorin nodded and left his side. He motioned to Fili and Kili to join him. "Thank you for allowing me to speak with your son," he formally told Elrond.

Elrond, now finished, stood. "I am pleased you no longer see us as adversaries. Thranduil, like dwarves, protects his own first. That endears his subjects to him. I expect no less of you when you finally reclaim your throne."

Thorin gave him a measured look and flipped the cowl over his head.

Elrond watched as they splashed into the soaked evening. He looked to where Erestor sat watch. "You three stay and keep Elrohir company. I'm joining Círdan."

Glorfindel rose and tossed Elrond's cloak to him. "I'll join you. Taíban wants a rematch of our game and this is the perfect weather to accommodate him."


	26. 26 Elessar

Many dwarves braved the rain to pull fish from the river and cut wood in the nearby forest to keep the fires inside the stone buildings burning day and night. The covered fire pits were the only ones not holding inches of water, and dams formulated a system to keep food cooking and groups moving in and out to get a hot meal. The elves disappeared behind their tent walls and if they cooked, nobody saw them scrounging wood.

Thorin, Garad and Fárin stepped around large puddles as they made daily rounds, ending petty squabbles, offering comfort and bearing news. They were moving to yet another set of circled wagons, with large tarps stretched over belongings and tied in the center on a pole. Groups huddled underneath and let rivulets of water shed to the outside of the wagons. Thorin saw them immerge from the mist and stopped in his tracks to watch this newest batch of elves bear down on them. Powerful horses, surrounded by white light took form, but their eyes were drawn to the riders.

Galadriel picked the best path through the dwarven camps. She allowed Nenya to cast a white aurora, bestowing a ghostly appearance on each of them and also helped keep rain from drenching their grey cloaks.

Thorin knew the witch of the Golden Wood had arrived and it was she the elves waited for. He saw her at a distance while at Rivendell the previous year. As when she arrived at Rivendell, an accompanying army surrounded her, but instead of Celeborn at her side, he recognized Prince Legolas. At Rivendell, he was hidden by shrubs and stone; here he was caught directly in her path and stepped aside, expecting not a glance from any of them, for his face was shrouded behind his own cloak with cowl pulled over his face. Being just a dwarf, he was used to not being seen by men and elves unless they wanted his blacksmith services. The horses abruptly stopped beside him drawing his eyes upward until he was looking into her blue eyes.

"Your testing is over, Prince Thorin. You passed and the Valar will grant your greatest wish."

"I didn't know I was being tried?" Thorin snarled in typical dwarven fashion and saw her smile. Without another word, the horses started moving at silent commands and before he could help himself exchanged glares with Legolas. Another beautiful dark haired female looked at him with interest and he realized it must be Arwen, Elrond's daughter. He remembered his father speaking favorably on her.

"What did she mean, Thorin?" Fárin asked. "What's your wish that she would know about?"

"Who knows," he growled and stalked to the next group. Inside he was dancing a jig. His greatest wish was to see his father on the throne for many more decades.

* * *

Estel sulked at being cooped up in Elrond's tent with his mother and Erak as rain poured for the third day, making puddles and wetting the bottom of the thick canvas. Other elves mingled and Elrohir was the center of attention and his bed moved away from the wall. He slinked to the cot and settled on the stool. "Are you still too sick to talk?"

"That's about all I can do," Elrohir grumbled. "This is the first time I've seen you. Where have you been?"

"There is so much to see and do. Erak lets me wander all over and just follows. He never tells me not to do anything making this the best summer ever. I've pulled large carp from the river and chopped firewood for dwarves and helped tend livestock. I'm even learning their language."

"I think it's partly that you're getting older and acting more mature." Elrohir knew he hit on the very thing to say when Estel smiled broadly and straightened. He also knew the boy was given his freedom to learn naturally how to deal with dwarves and their strange, aggressive ways. "When we get to Dale; you will meet the king's son, Bain. He is a little older than you, but you two should get along great."

"I heard about him. He got to have the black arrow on his shoulder. I've never done anything important," Estel moaned, sounding more his age.

"Your turn will come. You will be a great Dúnedain warrior and travel these lands, protecting men from evil. All Bain will ever do is learn to be a king of Dale." Elrohir hoped this satisfied the boy.

"I brought the whale carving you gave me. I'm showing it to Bain. I bet he's never seen one."

"Why don't you give it to him." Elrohir could see Estel pondering whether or not to do so. "We can always make you one, but he doesn't have a lot of toys or personal items. They lost everything when Smaug attacked Dale."

"If you don't mind, I will."

Elrohir smiled in satisfaction. He knew that simple act would most likely provide an ally for them when Bain was king.

* * *

Glorfindel, who knew when they entered camp, stepped from his and Erestor's tent to greet Galadriel. Círdan, another with limited Maia powers, quickly joined the warrior in the steady rain. Others started gathering for the reunion, as word quickly spread from silent calls only elves could hear.

The horses splashed between tents to a halt and she was first to dismount with a wide smile for them. "When Elrond told me you were on this side of the mountain, I decided to join the party, and of course return his warriors which Mithrandir refused to accompany him back to Imladris."

"The sun is about to shine upon our meeting," Círdan offered a slightly altered greeting and hugged her. He turned to greet Legolas. "I heard you are sprouting wings, young Legolas."

Legolas bowed his head respectfully. "Lord Círdan, it is a pleasure to see you again, and yes, the sun is about to shine upon our meeting." He didn't get any further salutation, for Elladan slapped his arm, drawing his attention.

"Have you been behaving around my little sister? If not, I want details."

"The only thing improper thoughts I'm engaging with your sister is a lesson with my sword she desperately needs. I've been kind and considerate and she's taken advantage of my good nature."

Elladan grinned in delight. "Good, I'll warm you up first."

Legolas' expression lost some of its cockiness.

Círdan laughed at the youthful exchange and looked for Arwen, while Galadriel greeted those of his and Elrond's houses. He found her getting a long hug from Elrond and moved to her side. "I'll take one of those, if Elrond remembers you are a friable elleth and not an orc he is trying to strangle."

Elrond reluctantly let her loose and just as Círdan reached for her, she was gone. Glorfindel grinned at him over her head as he snagged the next hug.

Círdan finally got to greet her. "Arwen, the years without a visit have been long and lonely."

"Maybe I'll surprise you then," she retorted with a bright smile. "I would love to visit the Havens in the summer and we can stroll city streets and pluck fruit to our hearts content."

"It's a date," Círdan laughingly replied and allowed her to greet Erestor.

* * *

Estel wondered why all the elves suddenly poured out into the rain. He saw his mother and Erak also looking at the entrance with frowns. He wondered if they were being attacked and then saw Elrond's sword still slung on a tent pole. He moved from Elrohir's side when he saw him drift into sleep an hour before and was playing a game with Erak. His mouth dropped open when the flap was held open and she entered with a host of elves.

Galadriel shed her cloak and handed it to another female elf, who dogged her every step. She sank onto the stool Estel vacated and placed a hand on Elrohir's chest. It ebbed and flowed with his shallow breathing.

Elrohir felt a comforting presence, as familiar to him as his adar's touch. He opened his eyes, "I knew it was you; for you draw me from sleep like no other."

"I see how your adar and Glorfindel rouse you and your brother. Cold water in the face is rather something an ellon would do."

"He is a warrior," Elrond said from behind her. "I'll save gentleness for you. That way he enjoys it more. Now if you were to take a wife, she could show you other pleasures upon waking."

"Fine, I'll find a Silvan elf in Thranduil's halls," Elrohir snapped back at his father.

"Does Glorfindel have to chaperone your every move?" Elrond countered.

"I didn't come to hear you two bicker," Galadriel ended their favorite form of communication and knew neither was serious.

Arwen shed her cloak and looked around. Her eyes fell on three humans and she remembered her father was raising yet another of his brother's progeny. As for the child; he was staring at her with wide grey eyes. _'Yep,'_ she mused, _'another little distant cousin I don't want to know too well and have my heart broken when he dies of old age.'_

Estel wondered who the dark haired beautiful elf could be. She was by far the prettiest he ever saw outside Galadriel, who he knew read his mind and that made him scared of her. Of course, Glorfindel fed him stories of her powers to heighten his young fears. He watched as she glided across the room to the cot and leaned down and kissed the cheek of Elrohir. With dejection, he guessed it must be Elrohir's intended; although he never heard rumors his brother was seeing someone.

"I didn't believe it when they said you were coming," Elrohir whispered; his throat dry.

Galadriel read his mind and poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the small table by his bed and helped him sit up.

Elrond took Arwen's elbow. "Come, meet our human family."

Erak and Gilraen stood when Elrond approached and nudged Estel to his feet.

"This is Arwen, my only daughter and light of my life," Elrond introduced her. He pointed to Erak, "The finest Dúnedain of his generation."

"M'lady," Erak bowed his head respectfully. He guessed who she was from the many paintings in Elrond's personal chamber.

Gilraen looked upon Arwen for the first time and they studied each other. Like all elves, she found this one impossible to read. "I hope you don't mind my living in your family wing?"

"We have raised all chieftains of the Dúnedain in my adar's house." She looked directly into Estel's eyes. "You will become a great warrior, young Elessar."

Estel frowned, "My name is Estel."

Arwen gave him a mysterious smile, "I have foreseen you with other names. Estel is your name no longer. Until you take a name for yourself; you are hereby called Elessar."

"Can she do that, Mother?" Estel's raised voice caused all talking to cease.

Galadriel and Círdan joined them and looked into minds.

"Your name for now shall be Elessar," Galadriel decreed.

Estel looked at his mother and Erak, expecting them to tell the elves they couldn't rename him and was shocked when his mother curtsied deeply to Galadriel and Erak nodded respectfully.

"It will be as you wish," Gilraen agreed. She looked at her son with sadness. "Elessar, please don't argue or backtalk your elders."

Estel sat back down, looking stunned at elves he thought he knew. "Are you still adar?" he asked Elrond in an unsure voice.

Elrond smiled fondly at him. "When you become a man, you will drop adar and call me Elrond, as all your forebears did. With a new name comes more responsibilities."

The new Elessar nodded aware he was being appeased. He looked at Arwen and scowled. He was certain he didn't like her. "The rain is almost stopped. Can I go outside now, Adar?"

"Take your cloak," Elrond commanded and watched the boy race away. He faced Erak and Gilraen. "Elessar means Elfstone. Of all Dúnedain raised in my house, he is the first to carry that name. Arwen…" another vision crashed over him.

 _A young Dúnedain fighting a war in Rohan and returning north via Lothlórien. No longer a child, Elessar was now Aragorn and wooing his daughter. There were no chaperones about and both lost in lust and roving hands reserved for married elves. Elrond wanted to rush in and pull them apart. Suddenly, Celeborn was beside them, hands on each shoulder and bodies jerked apart. He backhanded Aragorn into the bole of a tree and Arwen tried to strike him, but he was too fast. He dragged her away, leaving Aragorn alone and wiping blood from his cut lip._

"Did you see it?" Elrond snarled in rage.

"You know the dangers of placing them together," Galadriel warned, while Círdan nodded he saw and understood.

Erak and Gilraen saw Elrond blank out in mid-sentence and knew this was elven magic at work.

Arwen placed a hand on his arm, "Adar, what did you three see?"

Elrond patted the hand. "Nothing important; just an annoying vision that plagues me from time to time." He abruptly left the tent with Glorfindel and Erestor hurrying to catch up.

* * *

Dáin spread his warriors along each side of the long caravan. They left Long Lake the day before and tonight they would be safely in the mountain. "I think we might make it, Dwalin," he commented to his riding partner. In pairs they rode behind Gandalf, with Nori and Óin just behind and followed by Bifur and Bofur.

Gandalf held his hand up for them to halt. When Dáin and Dwalin flanked him, he pointed to a spot in the barren rocks to their right. A small band of orcs on Wargs and one held a white scrap tied to the end of a stick. "Looks like they want a meeting." He motioned for them to approach and word spread down the line like a spark in dry tinder that orcs were approaching.

Lióni ran to her father's side and because his position was just behind that of the lords of Erebor for her first close glimpse. The dots they all witnessed in the distance that were pointed out as orcs obscured their appearance and she was shocked by their ugly, twisted features. The beasts they rode resembled hideous wolf like creatures that snapped and growled, causing horses and rams to cry in panic heightened her natural fears of them. Her hand gripped the sword hilt and she was glad she donned her leather gloves, for her hands were dripping with sweat and panic. Warriors who encountered orcs told tales of savagery and slaughter, sparing none.

The leader cautiously approached and knew Gandalf was their leader, for word came from Sauron to look for a tall one wearing grey. In black speech, he stated, "We will trade lives of dwarves for the one who will wed a Durin." He motioned with his hand and another group appeared with a bound dwarf between them. "This one told us there is one among you."

Gandalf motioned for Dóvad to join them. "Who is that dwarf they've captured?"

"I'm not sure. One of the miners I assume. They must have taken him when he strayed ta relieve himself, for we've been under orders ta remain close for weeks."

Gandalf looked back to the orc, a short, wiry being in black speech. "Who is the dwarf?"

"Kef is his name. He works mines. We only want female and will go." The orc looked nervously in the direction of Dáin and Dwalin. They were moving apart slowly.

"No. Return the dwarf and we will let you live," Gandalf decreed.

"If I die, so do many dwarves."

"You tell that piece of filth, we will die fighting an not give whatever they are after," Dáin yelled.

Dwalin looked at the Mountain in the near distance. Tonight they would be safe in the halls and the orcs knew that.

The orc lifted his nose. "I smell her." He started to edge his Warg around Dwalin's side and never saw the swing until the Warhammer, Smasher, took his life.

Arrows filled the air and the two orcs holding Kef dropped in their tracks. A horn sounded from behind the orcs causing the remaining few to try and run.

Dwalin had his hands full with the riderless Warg. Bifur and Bofur sliced at it with their swords until Dwalin managed a killing swing against the skull.

Pinned between the caravan and an attacking army, orcs were forced over the ridge they were hiding behind. Warriors protecting the caravan rushed to engage.

Lióni shook off hands trying to lead her to safety behind the wagons from her mother and grandmother and joined the warriors. She spotted an orc just bigger than her and screamed, "DIE, as she charged, her sword running it through."

Others turned and sniffed. With a grin, they lunged at her with overwhelming speed and force. She deftly stepped aside and stabbed another through. Jumping back, she found herself grabbed by large, smelly orcs with rotting grins. "Weeze tak ya now," one stated in poor Westron. In spite of her screams for help, her sword was ripped from her grasp and she was slung over the shoulder of the largest and they were running through the battle and up the hill.

Gandalf used his staff to blind those nearest him to his dwarven friend's advantage. He heard the lass, Lióni, crying for help and sent a silent call for their path to be intercepted. Taking _Glamdring_ , he easily cut down an attacking Warg.

Dáin relished the opportunity to take on a Warg and its snapping jaws didn't deter him from rushing its head, his Warhammer swinging. The beast was quick and ducked its massive head, trying to get a bite on the annoying dwarf. Teeth grazed the Mithril armor and Dáin laughed. "Hope ye broke ah tooth." His next swing didn't miss and life flowed from the crushed skull.

The orc carrying Lióni jumped onto his Warg and they made haste away from the battle. It looped south with the intent of taking this one to Mordor for a sacrifice to Sauron; for she was the one the dwarf told them was the leader's daughter. He didn't count on the spear coming from a great distance and piercing his ride. They tumbled off when the Warg ploughed its snout into the ground and flipped over. The orc snarled cures and drew his scimitar to face his enemy. He had just enough time to recognize his killers – elves, before a blow that removed his head.

Lióni jumped to run from these new and giant warriors when one reached out and snagged her arm. She struggled to no avail and was taken to two elves with no facial hair and long silver hair. She had a brief thought that this new enemy would take her far from her family and they would never learn her fate and just as swift, another flicker passed that she saw them before, but in her panicked state, didn't stop to process the new information. In her peripheral vision she saw all the orcs that took her were lying dead, as did their hideous mounts. She looked up into the face of her new captors; chin high and a defiant look on her face to cover a mountain of fear.

"Where's your beard?" One of the tall captors asked her in Khuzdul and she showed her surprise this one could speak her language.

She quickly felt her face and bare cheeks. Not remembering when or how, she replied, "I don't need it to die!" She wasn't prepared for the smile that graced his face, showing dimples. She wouldn't be sport for whatever this thing was. "If you're not going to kill me; I am leaving." She turned her back on them and started in a direction. She noticed the tall beings parted and let her through, so they probably weren't going to harm her. She was uncertain the direction back to the wagons, but knew the orcs took her over two hills and the smelly animal traveled rapidly for several long minutes. She could hear the one she spoke with laughing behind her. Another hand halted her escape.

"You must remain with us for your safety." This one also used her language, although sported brown hair. "Come, we will return you to your kind." He mounted and reached for her hand and hauled her behind him.

Lióni looked around and the small army was moving in the opposite direction she chose. She let her gaze rest on the backs of those who appeared to be in charge and then gasped. One was riding the largest elk she ever saw. "I would love to ride that magnificent animal," she murmured aloud.

' _She wants a ride, Thranduil.'_ Celeborn spoke in his mind.

' _Maybe we should leave her for orcs,'_ Thranduil replied.

' _We could. Galadriel will read my mind to see why I'm so happy and then I'll be forced to listen to a nagging Ñoldor wife for the next hundred years on the breaking of a treaty and the war that will ensue. Give the dwarf a ride, if nothing else so I have peace in my bed.'_

' _At least you have a wife to bed,'_ Thranduil testily replied. "Bring the dwarf to me," he ordered in Sindarin.

When Demythel rode to him and without breaking stride reached around and snagged her by slipping fingers into the top of her armor and lifted her to sit in front of Thranduil.

Lióni shed a glove and reached out to stroke the soft velvet tine that angled closest to her. "I got to fly with Gandalf on the back a great eagle when we crossed the Redwater."

"Mithrandir has a soft spot for dwarves. He has never taken my advice."

Lióni frowned, "I don't know that name."

"You know him as Gandalf or Tharkûn." Thranduil wondered at his having a conversation with a lowly dwarf lass and was about to toss her back to Demythel when she spoke again."

"You've proven adept in the language of my race. I have a question." She twisted to look up into his face. "What are you?"

"Master of Middle Earth," Thranduil joked, but withheld his natural smile to appear stern.

"I think Gandalf will take issue of you stealing his title," she spunkily retorted.

He couldn't keep the smile back and decided for a dwarf, she was tolerable. "How about King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm."

"Well, King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm; what are you? I'm familiar with men of the East, called Easterlings. They raided the dwarves of North Orocarni and took the leader's wife and killed her. That's where King Thorin was severely injured, but what race are you?"

Thranduil smirked at Thorin's king title, but honored the message Thráin sent him not to disclose his living to this band of misfits. "We are the firstborn. You know us as elves."

"Oh, you're that Thranduil!" she exclaimed.

"There is no other, I assure you," he responded with humor in his tone. "You've heard of me?"

"I listened to talk around the fires at night and when King Thorin was in our home, he told us all about the great battle and elves who helped. It's funny, when he mentioned your name; it always was preceded by prissy elf."

Thranduil broke into laughter and heard Celeborn laughing in his mind. "He is lucky his….," he broke off. "Well he still needs to spend his honeymoon in my dungeon. Did you convince that hard headed dwarfling to marry you?"

She colored and wondered how Thranduil knew she was to marry a Durin. "I know the King will marry. I told him I wasn't interested to choose another. How did you know he was coming all the way to Jötunheim to gather available lasses and take them back to the Lonely Mountian?"

"I didn't. He didn't confide in me his plans. It came as a surprise," Thranduil easily lied. Silently he added to Celeborn, at his side, _'Thorin was sent personally to get that traitor dwarf who caused Thráin to be attacked. I plan on escorting the dwarves into the mountain because I want to be present when they come face to face with him.'_

' _Do I have to tag along? I could return to your keep and relax in your mineral pools with all the wine I care to drink.'_

' _You are coming. I know how much you consume.'_ Done with Celeborn, he spoke aloud in Khuzdul. "Are you the only dwarven lass coming to be bartered to a Durin, or are their others vying for Thorin's considerable charms?"

"I'm the only one considered of rank for a Durin," Lióni answered and had a thought. "Thorin did something odd…"

Thranduil again laughed, "That is normal for him."

"Buying books on elven ladies is normal for him?" She queried, unsure if being teased.

Celeborn looked at her with more interest than he showed a dwarf in two ages of the world, although he stayed silent.

"What would Thorin want with a book about elven ladies?" Thranduil answered with his own question.

"Thorin said it was a book of all important female elves who married in Middle Earth. I had it in my bedchamber and was looking at the gowns and jewelry, but couldn't read the words. Thorin took it and to our surprise, both he and Dwalin were able to read the Cirth. He read a passage about an elf named Celebrían and her wedding gown."

Celeborn flashed back to that day. _Celebrían gracefully walked into their sitting room at Imladris and he saw her gown for the first time just hours before she was taken from him forever. He took her hands and kissed her brow, careful not to muss one hair or knew his own celebration might involve abstinence. She was a gorgeous vison of ice in her pale blue gown shimmering with silver embroidery. Celebrían chose silver as her metal for all wedding paraphernalia and her personal jewelry. He could afford any metal she chose and insisted on highest quality from a dwarven mine in the White Mountains…_ He heard the word Ríllas and Thranduil draw a sharp breath.

"Thorin and Dwalin both reacted to the name and then shut up. I wish I knew who this Ríllas was?" Lióni wistfully asked in general.

"She was my wife," Thranduil answered without emotion. "I take it the purchased book is still with the caravan?"

"I'll ask Lord Dwalin."


	27. 27 House Of The Golden Flower Pt 1

The battle didn't last long, mainly due to the vast superior numbers of fighting dwarves.

Lári's short legs churned as she raced through warriors in search of her husband when the horn sounded all clear. She panted to a stop at his side and noticed they were surrounded by dead orcs and Wargs, but relieved he was unharmed and hoped his news was good. "Have you seen Lióni?" She wailed over the din of soldiers shouting and greeting fellow dwarves in a joyous reunion.

"She is supposed ta be behind the wagons with ye," Dóvad snarled, dread forming in his belly.

"She broke away from me and joined the soldiers. This is your doing, Dóvad. You encourage her."

"We'll find the lass," he snarled and turned to see what warriors were available. In his perusal, he spotted Dwalin and hurried to his side. "Lióni is missing," he raged. "Could'na be they took her?"

Dwalin leveled a disbelieving stare at him. "You heard what they were after. Did they get close enough to the dams ta steal her?"

"Nay, Dwalin, she foolishly joined the warriors an now is gone."

Dwalin looked out over bodies of the slain. "Have this area searched. I'll find Dáin and we'll do a broader search. Check with all your warriors and dwarves."

* * *

Dáin, on his boar, planted himself on an outcropping and directed his warriors to scour the bodies should the lass be trapped under the dead. Spotting Gandalf galloping over a hill in his direction, he redirected his attention and reported when the wizard pulled up at his side. "Everyone is in good spirits, although it seems ah lass intended for ah Durin has come up missing according ta Lord Dóvad. Seems she is his daughter."

Gandalf was sure Thranduil would rescue her, but what if the elves missed her? Before he could explain that the elves were hunting their enemy just over the hill, Dóvad's ram stamped his feet at the abrupt tugging on the reins and the lord skidded on the rocks before him and Dáin. "My daughter foolishly joined the fight an ain't among the dead," he thundered. "One of my warriors saw her snatched by those filthy animals. I'm going after her."

"Wait, Dóvad; call for a raven," Gandalf ordered Dáin with sternness in his tone that had both dwarves pausing their hastiness to pursue.

Dáin whistled and while they waited Dwalin joined them.

"All quarters reported to me an the lass is still missing," Dwalin reported to his fellow dwarves and Gandalf.

Once again before Gandalf could offer a possible explanation a large black bird floated over the caravan and landed on Dáin's outstretched arm.

Piqu, the raven rested easily on the gold plated mithril armor incasing the outstretched arm and squawked loudly for several seconds causing Dáin and Dwalin to laugh. When he finished, Dáin reached in his pocket and fished out a piece of bread. "This is all I'm packen for ye buzzards this trip."

Piqu bobbed his head and took flight, while Gandalf waited impatiently.

"Yer lass was seen on the back of an elk," Dáin replied with a gleam in his eyes.

Gandalf's fierce countenance instantly changed and he grinned.

"Yer sick Durin humor isn't appreciated at this moment," Dóvad raged and raised his Warhammer.

"You strike a Durin and I'll have you in our dungeon the moment your feet hit the floor in the mountain," Dáin warned in a rare usage of formal speech.

"Lord Dóvad, what Dáin says is correct. If your daughter is on the back of an elk, that means she is with none other than King Thranduil of the woodland elves. She is quite safe, unless she insults the king…..but I'm sure you raised her right."

Dóvad lowered his weapon. "I didn't see any elves." He looked at Dáin. "Care to explain?"

Before Dáin could reply, Dwalin interjected, "So the elves were riding our flank?"

Dáin nodded, "You know how the king is? He sent ah raven ta Thranduil an asked for help."

"Well, we will get the lass back then," Dwalin uttered and in his mind the situation was resolved. "Let's get the wagons moving." He looked directly at Dóvad, so everyone knew who was to do that task.

"Not until these mythical elves bring my daughter," Dóvad refused firmly, aware displeasing a Durin might have dire consequences.

"Well, turn around then," Gandalf snapped.

Dóvad swiveled just as a line of elves topped the ridge. He was stunned to see his daughter on an elk with a large elf sitting behind her and it trotted directly to the wizard while dwarves came running to see the strange sight.

"Mithrandir, I rescued one of your pets," Thranduil spoke in Sindarin.

"So this is the one Thorin attacked and would have had his way with?" Dáin asked in the tongue of the elves, and all dwarves present who understood, laughed.

"She doesn't favor him after he mauled her dignity and I believe his wedding night would be interesting with this one," Dwalin responded in kind.

"She should be forced to wed Thorin," Thranduil lightheartedly added. "His life wouldn't be dull and he might have to sleep with one eye open, like I had to." Thinking of his wife, he remembered. "Dwalin, you have a book Thorin purchased?"

Gandalf looked at Dwalin with interest. "What would Thorin want with a book?"

Dwalin looked uncomfortable, "He didn't tell me what it was for, but overpaid a gold coin for it. Some book with lots of pictures. Maybe he wants to improve his Sindar Cirth reading."

"Do we have to hold up the caravan over a book?" Gandalf retorted acerbically looking at the growing crowd now ringing the elves.

"I'm not done with this, Mithrandir," Thranduil warned. "I will see this book Thorin desired."

Gandalf looked to Thranduil's right, "Lord Celeborn, I am happy to see you brought your warriors to aid the dwarves."

"You know how much I care for dwarves, Mithrandir. I do care about my sleeping arrangements and the hag insisted I come."

Gandalf grinned and addressed Dóvad, "You must forgive our speaking the language of the elves. You will find that in Erebor, Westron and Khuzdul are interchanged frequently. There will be tutors for those needing to learn Westron."

"I speak it, as do my dwarflings. My wife insisted," Dóvad replied, miffed his wife didn't teach him Sindarin; for he was sure she could speak some.

Gandalf looked at Thranduil and spoke in Westron, "Are you coming to the mountain?"

"I wouldn't miss what is coming for anything," Thranduil replied in kind and smiled at the wizard.

"I expect you would enjoy it." Gandalf seared him with a warning glance.

Dóvad wondered at their play of words, but sent word to get them moving. He watched as Lióni got lifted gently off the saddle and dropped to the ground. He escorted her back to their wagon. "What got into ya, child?"

"I wanted to help," she responded with her usual defiance. "Did you know the rider of the elk is a king? The other one is a lord and father of the elf that Thorin read about in the book."

"I haven't seen Thranduil in so long." Lári looked after the elves, now taking their position in front of the wagons.

"How come you never told me about elves?" Lióni questioned her mother as she climbed onto the wagon.

"Where is your beard?" Lári just realized it was missing and glad for a change of subject.

Dóvad then saw his wife was right. "The elves saw yer naked face an didn't molest ye?"

"No Father; they asked where it was and I'll tell you what I said to them. I don't need one."

"I'm glad King Thorin is lenient with yer sassy attitude. Any other king an ye would be flogged, as well as me," her father moaned at his own folly for raising such a froward daughter.

"We will make you a new one," her mother reasoned and started off behind the Durin's.

Lióni hurried to keep pace; leaving her father to make sure no stragglers could be picked off by remaining orcs they may have missed. Satisfied, he raced to the front and joined Dáin and Dwalin's group.

* * *

Satisfied the battle went in favor of dwarves, Thráin left the rampart, with Dori on one side and young Thorin the other, although the youngster threw a last glance over his shoulder.

"Go and tell the dams all ye saw," Thráin instructed him.

"But I'm ta stay by yer side until relieved by higher rank, and there isn't any here, or ye are safe," Thorin quoted his father's parting instructions.

"All right, I'll go with ye." He winked at Dori, who grinned back. "I'll be dining in my chambers tonight. Seems like all our trusted warriors chose ah battle over guarding me."

"When do ye think they will be here?" Thorin asked and nodded he approved when two warriors preceded them and two brought up the rear. Dwarves in the market parted and bowed as they marched through to the wide staircase leading to Durin family wing.

"After midnight. Gandalf will keep them moving lest another attempt is made on the caravan."

Thorin followed him down the hall to his rooms. He looked at the older, trusted guards and after Thráin closed his door, instructed, "My father will return tonight. Come and get me when they are close. I'll personally escort the king."

"Ye may be ah future lord, master Thorin, but we only take orders from the king or ah ranking lord," the closest replied and the others laughed.

Thorin's ears burned at the dressing down. "Ye'll do as I say or face me in the arena." He stomped to his rooms and slammed the door in rage, laughter following him all the way.

"Did the battle go ill for us?" Azie asked when seeing her son's expression and the way he threw his Warhammer across the room.

"Naw, it's those guards in the hall. I told them ta come an get me when the caravan was close an they said they didn't take orders from one such as me. Someday I'll be able ta best them, an I've marked who they are."

"Perhaps you should tell your father," Azie advised.

He snorted, "An have my father fight my battles? No, this will be my fight."

Azie looked at her mother and they both smiled. Their dwarfling was growing up and not running to his father to right his bumps in life like he used to.

* * *

Picket stood just out of sight with Thráin's laundry in his hands when he heard the soldiers laughing and mocking young Thorin. He counted to ten and stepped lively around the corner from the back stairway that led down into the bowels of the mountain. The warriors stopped laughing and straightened against the walls, like guards of their stature were trained to stand. Without acknowledging any, he opened the king's door and disappeared inside.

Thráin looked up from stoking the fire. "Are the laundries ready for more dirty clothes?"

"Aye, they have all repairs made. Lord Dori personally inspected the area just this morning." When Thráin didn't speak further, he made his decision. "Thorin Stonehelm had words with the guards in the hall. I know he is ah youth, but his father did leave him great responsibility in regards ta yer presence." He knew he had the king's attention when the one eye was focused on him. "The lad may do something foolish; for I heard him comment on seeing them in the arena. He is no match for seasoned warriors an I doubt Lord Dáin would wish his eldest injured."

"I'll mention it to Dáin," Thráin replied and saw a relieved look cross Picket's face.

Without another word, Picket took the laundry to the king's bedchamber.

Thráin picked up the book off the table and opened to the bookmark. Settling before the fire to wait his repast, he started into another chapter.

 _Impressions of Meeting the Twice Born_

 _His hair was of spun gold from the finest forges; tresses lifting slightly in the wind blowing off the Gulf of Lhûn. It was a strange wind; one the elves of the first age commented upon. They said a wind like this one was blowing the day King Finarfin arrived with his fleet at the Bay of Falas. This lone elf stood tall at the bow of his small vessel. The features were of a young looking elf, eyes alight with mischief and a ready smile. He had the bearing of a warrior; wizened eyes scanning the growing host of gawkers. His cloak and tunic had me flashing back to my elflinghood when the survivors of Gondolin were still among us and I sensed he was out of time, but not sure of my impressions._

 _I, Erestor, penned those words when I first laid eyes on the distant traveler from across the sea and the memories he invoked. I was on the docks that day taking supplies to a boat made ready to sail to the undying lands when it caught my attention, both for sporting a unique design and gliding past empty quays directly to my location. Our eyes met for the first time and to my astonishment, he lit from within and his entire body cast a white/golden glow, not unlike a firefly. My eyes were immediately drawn to a large white horse with his head resting on the shoulder of this strange elf. I snapped from my surprise when the boat bumped the dock and several dock workers rushed to moor it._

 _The stranger, with ease of an athlete and single leap, landed before me. I will always remember he was wearing a blue cloak carelessly tossed over each shoulder, displaying a tunic of grey adorned with golden flowers across the bottom and buttonholes. Before I could utter a syllable, Fálmar, Elrond's elflinghood companion, darted to my side and greeted him. "The sun shines brightly upon our meeting, distinguished visitor. I am primogeniture lord of North Mithlond when my adar sails."_

 _The stranger looked with amusement at Fálmar and once again his eyes drifted to me. Still he didn't speak and another voice from just behind me had me gasping in wonder._

 _Lord Galdor and chief lieutenant to Círdan spoke in disbelief, "It cannot be. I saw you fall to your death and was at your graveside when Thorondor brought your body for burial. I did not know Glorfindel had an identical twin."_

 _The golden haired elf looked at his horse still on the boat and gave a command and we first heard his commanding voice. "Asfaloth, take a long run into the hills. You've been onboard for a month."_

 _We watched as the horse whinnied and jumped onto the stone dock, rocking the boat madly. It took off and was soon from our sight._

 _We all focused on him again when he answered Galdor. "Galdor, you know I have two older sisters and being youngest and only iôn, am spoiled horribly." He smiled and lit from within, a site not seen since Melian walked these shores before my birth. "I was released from the Halls of Mandos and given a small task back on these shores."_

 _Galdor pushed by Fálmar and laid his hands on what had to be Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower from the few words spoken by him and Galdor. "It is you, bruin meldir. You must tell us everything so I may direct your path clearly. Who do you seek?"_

 _Glorfindel's eyes sought mine again, while Fálmar, slower to catch on, asked again who he was._

 _I glanced around and the dock was packed with everyone wanting a glimpse of this anomalous elf._

" _Is that Ecthelion's iôn?" He was looking at me again. "He looks so much like him."_

 _Galdor placed a hand on my shoulder, "This is Lord Erestor. He was born on the trail of tears to Lady Emera and Lord Ecthelion and earned his title for dedication to Middle Earth. He is studious like his naneth and fights almost as good as his adar. He inherited sublime traits from both parents."_

 _Laughing blue eyes looked into my Ñoldor greys. "I shall find your weaknesses and amuse myself. That's the least I can do for my dear friend's iôn."_

 _I was still uncertain this was the famous Glorfindel that lays were sung and name mentioned reverently among the greatest of heroes. "Do you have letters of introduction?" I asked._

 _Once again the elf lit from within and a grin grew across his handsome, boyish features. "I will tell you stories of your adar not written in your dusty tomes. I seek Lord Círdan first and then the current Ñoldor king."_

" _Of course," Galdor replied and motioned for Glorfindel to join him. Not to be left out, I followed closely and Glorfindel glanced at me with approval._

" _What are your duties?" he asked me._

" _I'm house seneschal to Lord Círdan. I do his bidding and keep records and write books."_

 _He looked at me in horror, "I'm glad your adar is dead. No iôn of his would be allowed to morph into a librarian."_

 _I grew angry; hero or not, he had no right to disparage my profession. "I doubt you are back from the dead and through happenstance resemble a dead lord. Good luck convincing Lord Círdan."_

 _Galdor laughed softly, "Young Erestor, I've known this fëa from when we lived in Aman. One might pass for another ellon, but the fëa cannot be copied. Soon we will hear what I'm sure is a fascinating tale. I've heard rumors that the Halls of Mandos can give up their dead. King Finarfin said his eldest had just rejoined the living just days before he sailed to our shores."_

" _I greeted many in the Halls during that war. Many from before the sun who died are already risen and rejoined their families," Glorfindel provided as we hurried up a cobblestone walkway to Círdan's palace. Glorfindel looked around and then at the enormous house. "This is much larger than his home in Falas."_

" _How much do you know?" Galdor asked him and opened a door._

" _I've retained memories of my past life." We stepped into the foyer and Glorfindel looked at the lush trees bearing citrus fruits that would freeze, even in the mild Mithlond winters._

 _Taíban stepped from a room and stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide open._

 _Glorfindel raised his hand to his chest and gave a slight bow. "Lord Taíban, I haven't seen you since Celeborn and Galadriel's wedding and we pitted warriors from Fingolfin's group against those of Elu Thingol."_

" _We would have won if Celeborn wasn't preoccupied with his bride," Taíban griped and then reached his hand for a warrior's grasp. "Did you fake your death?"_

 _Glorfindel lit from within as he smiled._

 _Taíban continued, "You didn't do that last time we were together. I've only seen Melian look thus on occasion."_

" _I was asked to return."_

" _Don't tell me you were run from the Halls of Mandos and Aman in the short space of one millennia?" The booming voice of Círdan rained down upon us and we turned as one to see him leaning over a balustrade of white marble._

 _Glorfindel smirked and bowed his head respectfully. "If you loosen my tongue with your finest wine, I'll regale you with stories from Aman and Halls of the dead." Glorfindel looked around, "Where is Eärendil and Elwing's iôn?"_

 _Círdan paused and pondered on Glorfindel's last statement before joining us and grabbing Glorfindel in a hard hug. Hands rested on each shoulder as he examined this strange elf carefully. Finally, the mariner spoke, "Elrond and Elros stayed with me until reaching their majority. Elrond moved to King Gil-galad's home to learn to be a Ñoldor and study healing from our finest in the craft. He also is a warrior you would be proud to have at your side. And that is all I'm telling you in the foyer. Come," he motioned for us to follow to his personal rooms. He motioned for a servant, "Rush to Gil-Galad and tell him I have an interesting visitor. Also inform the king, I give him half an hour to grace my home or I'll start interrogating without him….and don't breathe one word who our guest is."_

" _You haven't mentioned Elrond's current location," Glorfindel astutely commented. "If he were in Mithlond, I'm assuming you would have summonsed him."_

" _What do you know?" Círdan deflected and we accepted wine and settled on comfortable settees to observe our guest._

" _That I would have to find much on my own. I was subjected to close supervision until I sailed and taken first to my parents' home and then to Taniquetil for instruction. Like you, Círdan, I was blessed by the Valar with minor Maiar abilities."_

 _I was stunned by his revelation. "What are you able to do?" I blurted out and regretted it for his insufferable smile was immediately cast in my direction._

 _Before he could answer, a knock sounded and a servant rushed to open to the king. It was at that moment I realized Círdan surreptitiously ordered Gil-galad to join us and wondered at the king jumping so quickly instead of making the other lord wait._

 _Gil-galad entered and looked closely at Glorfindel without recognition._

 _Gil-galad: I have yet to be disappointed when Círdan urgently wishes to see me. I took note of the stranger with Círdan and his normal entourage. I was expecting it to be King Oropher or his wild, impulsive iôn, Thranduil. My interest mounted with knowledge I was to meet a new elf who had the ear of Lord Círdan._

" _King Gil-galad, you received your crown upon the death of King Turgon," Círdan formally declared superfluously. We listened out of politeness and knew of Gil-galad's rise to High King. "Had this elf lived; he would be your right hand."_

 _Gil-galad's head whipped as to cause whiplash, he turned it so fast and uttered, "He looks very much alive to me."_

 _Galdor laughed and slapped the thigh of the stranger, "I expect for the next thousand years, we'll all be forced to hear your story; which I haven't heard yet, I might add."_

 _Círdan motioned the elf to stand and likewise rose. Respectful before the king, the mariner gave formal introduction. "Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Elves of the West, King of Lindon and the Lord of Eriador, meet the twice-born elf, Lord Glorfindel Glorwëion of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin, Lord in the House of Findawë and third cousin to the Lady Galadriel."_

 _Gil-galad's jaw dropped, and he took a moment to recover. "I'm speechless, Lord Glorfindel. No, no, do not bow to me. I feel I should genuflect instead. I have much to ask, but will allow my host to direct the conversation." He took a much needed glass of wine and sank into a chair._

 _Círdan dutifully took over. "Now that the king is here, start from your time in the Halls of Mandos."_

 _With all eyes on the golden haired reborn, he began. "It's funny that I remember my death. I still can feel my flesh burned away and the smell of singed and burning hair. The fall didn't kill me, but the landing sure did."_

 _He stopped to allow us our mirth. It was apparent; this elf had a fine sense of humor and could laugh at his plight._

" _My fëa departed the broken corpse and I saw the Great Eagle, Thorondor, gliding down the outside wall and snatching my body before the orcs and trolls could have their way with it. I would like to say I stayed for my funeral, but was drawn across the sea at a pace faster than a burst of sunray. Mandos met me at the gates of his realm. 'Glorfindel, it saddens me to welcome you here. If ever one gave freely of himself, it is you. Come and rest now.' Then he was gone and I was in the spirit world. I moved through the halls, greeting others, who like me, seemed to float without effort. We could see each other's fëas and there were no strangers in the Halls. I met some of the first who died and were victims when Melkor first attacked at Cuiviénen. They have no home, so will remain forever with Lord Mandos and live in his halls."_

" _Is it true?" Gil-galad interrupted. "The fables telling of tapestries of time on the walls?"_

" _Where did you hear that?" Glorfindel queried right back, but with a smile we were to learn was as natural to him as breathing._

" _The tales of Aman are written into books for elflings. I was read them before bed each night. Gondolin had several stories and you were mentioned as a great hero that all elfling boys wanted to emulate."_

" _Yes, the fables are true and quite fascinating. I met those whose lives were laid out on the walls, including mine." He pierced Gil-galad with a serious look. "I saw your life being woven by Míriel, ex-wife of Finwë." He stopped and chuckled. "That was quite entertaining. King Finwë was still in the Halls when I arrived. He tried to avoid her, but was drawn daily to her rooms to see his family. Of course, many of his daeriôns spent time with him and Fëanor will be forever with his mother. Interesting note on that. She is the only one with a body in the Halls."_

" _No way," I snapped. "That is impossible."_

 _Again that amused smirk was thrown my way. "Young, Erestor, it will take several millennia for me to finish your education. With the Valar, anything is possible."_

 _He talked long into the night and we hardly allowed him to eat for wanting to hear more. Finally, Círdan called a halt and stated Glorfindel was to be his guest._

" _I object," Gil-galad shouted. "As king, I say he comes to my home."_

 _Glorfindel laughed in delight. "I haven't been here but a few hours and am starting another war."_

" _How many are laid to your credit?" I asked sarcastically._

 _He smiled at me, "Most of my wars are pitting elves against each other for my amusement."_


	28. 28 House Of The Golden Flower Pt 2

_Break of dawn found Gil-galad sitting at Círdan's breakfast table in hopes of learning more of Aman and this hero lord. He also pondered a burning question that a night of sleep was forfeited. "You told us many interesting stories about the Halls of Mandos and Aman, but not your reason for returning."_

 _Many lords crowded around the shipwrights table this beautiful morning and focused on our guest for his answer. I also wondered at why the Valar chose him for obviously a very important job._

 _With a bright smile, Glorfindel provided us an answer. "I am here to insure the line of Turgon does not fail or end. I'm aware of the death of Elros. I saw it on the walls in Míriel's personal wing."_

" _So he didn't go to the halls of Mandos?" Círdan quietly and sadly asked._

 _In the same compassionate tone, Glorfindel replied, "No. His ending is in the Halls of the Atanatári among the people he loved. There is no crossing the divides of races in the afterlife. Míriel forever ended his name on the tapestries and his elven linage stops with him."_

" _Then you seek Elrond?" Gil-galad questioned and support for this stranger waivered._

 _Glorfindel nodded. "That and my horse. He should be done inspecting all the mares by now. I've sent him to your stables, Círdan."_

 _Círdan motioned for a servant, who was waiting unobtrusively along a wall. "Send a page to inform the stable master that the invading horse is to be treated as if I own it." That done, he turned back to Glorfindel. "Elrond is in the Old Forest visiting with Larwain Ben-adar."_

 _Glorfindel softly whistled his appreciation. "So, the fatherless one still lives there? I met him once when we searched high and low for Aredhel. I always felt he knew where she was."_

" _I'm sure he did," Círdan agreed._

* * *

 _Glorfindel lodged with Círdan, although Gil-galad pleaded incessantly for him to stay in his home. To be fair, Glorfindel did go hunting almost daily with the king so Círdan could run his community. I was along for most of the hunts and learned much of this golden hair warrior; the first being; his hunting skills were far superior to mine and the king's._

" _The only elf with hunting skills that match yours is Lord Celeborn," I acknowledged reluctantly one night around a campfire._

" _I concur," Gil-galad echoed. Your shot took that running antelope beyond range normal elves are capable. Did being raised during the Years of the Trees in Aman provide superior training?"_

 _Glorfindel smiled before speaking and we were growing used to it preceding most of his sentences. "I'll let you two in on a little secret. Before Lord Manwë departed these shores, he bestowed Lord Celeborn with lesser Maia powers. I learned about Celeborn from Lord Manwë when he enhanced my natural ability and added special talents above the first born. Celeborn didn't seek what he was blessed with and I'm sure never mentions his superiority. It was his father-in-law, King Finarfin's plea for the safety of his only daughter, who refused to return with him at the end of the War of Wrath. I asked Lord Manwë how close our fighting skills were and he said almost identical in hunting and fighting, but being twice-born, I was endowed with powers to travel in spirit to Aman and have my fëa restored by the Valar when my body is taxed. Celeborn has never left his body, so the best they could do for him was taking an elf off his horse with the sweep of a hand; and they made him stronger than other elves, as they did me."_

 _Glorfindel wasn't boasting, just telling us plainly his abilities._

" _Now that's a match I'll not miss," Gil-galad enthusiastically decreed._

* * *

 _Two weeks after Glorfindel arrived, Elrond returned from his trip. Gil-galad told him to bathe and report immediately to Círdan. Thinking he was needed, Elrond complied with hopes arriving at dinner time would garner an invite; which he knew was a formality._

 _We were gathered in Círdan's living chambers for a pre-dinner libation when unannounced Elrond opened the door and strolled in. All talking ceased, as did his forward progress when the room fell silent. He looked to see what was amiss and his eyes lit on Glorfindel and opened wide. He accepted a glass of wine off a tray offered by a smirking servant and sank onto a comfortable chair across from our guest; expression cautious and eyes never wavering._

" _Good evening to you also," Círdan humorously broke the silence and drew Elrond's eyes to him._

" _Forgive my manners; which I know you instilled in me." He took a gulp and smiled. "What is your message that Gil-galad pushed me out the door within an hour of my homecoming?"_

 _Círdan pointed to Glorfindel. "He is my message."_

 _Elrond: From the moment my eyes spotted him, I felt a drawing of my fëa; like meeting a long lost friend or kin. Elrond focused once again on the stranger, who resembled the high elves of an age past. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure or I'm sure I would remember you. You have a message for me?"_

 _Glorfindel laughed. "Yes, young Elrond. I am your message."_

 _Elrond looked confused, "I have a personal servant, but you can groom my horse."_

 _The room erupted with laughter and Círdan wiped his eyes and responded, "Elrond, he will do much more than groom your horse. Do you have any idea who this elf is?"_

 _Elrond studied his face and a niggling at the back of his mind said he'd seen that face before. "You seem familiar, but no, I don't know you."_

" _No reason you should. I died before you were born."_

 _Elrond downed his glass and held it out for a refill while we chuckled at his reaction. Once again with something to calm his hands, which shook slightly at the revelation he was in the room with a twice-born, he asked, "And who are you that the Valar prize enough to return to the living and send to our shores?"_

 _Galdor couldn't take the guessing game any longer, "You have one more guess, Elrond, before I spill the beans."_

 _Elrond put deeper thought into his identity now that he knew was a twice-born. "Who would die and be reborn and sitting in Círdan's home?" He mused aloud and looked around, noticing the king for the first time. "Our leaders are here and our guest looks to be their equal." He snapped his fingers, "You are Galadriel's long dead brother, Finrod. He had golden hair and was tall."_

" _I spent much time with Finrod in the palace of Tirion, along with Fingolfin's iôns and Galadriel's two other brothers. I also spared and played with Galadriel and Aredhel. Now who would also grow up in the palace of the High Ñoldor King?"_

 _We all waited to see if Elrond could put the missing pieces together. "You are not a Fëanorian, so I'm at a loss."_

" _Let me introduce him then," Círdan stated as he stood. Being a formal introduction, both Glorfindel and Elrond rose. "Lord Elrond Eärendilion, presumptive heir of Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the eastern elves, allow me to introduce the hero of Gondolin, Lord Glorfindel Glorwëion of the house of the Golden Flower."_

 _Elrond saw amusement on Glorfindel's face and remembered to close his mouth and wondered how many shocks his fëa could handle before waking in the Halls of Mandos. "Of course, Galadriel told me about her cousin," he snapped, peeved he couldn't guess and as soon as the name was thrown out, he placed a painting in Galadriel's home when visiting as an elfling with this face and blurted out, "Why? Why are you here?"_

" _I'm sure Galadriel would have preferred her brother, Finrod, but he is happily married and his father's regent in Tirion, whereas, I was doing nothing except trying to keep myself amused in the Halls of Mandos. I believe I was asked to leave."_

 _When Glorfindel skirted an answer, Elrond decided to allow the pompous elf his fun and send him on his way; back to Aman if he had any sway with Círdan._

 _Glorfindel suddenly smirked at Elrond, but continued talking. "Why, I'm here is to guard and assist you."_

" _Are you playing me for a fool? I am very capable of protecting myself and these lands are at peace," Elrond raised his voice._

" _War will come again and you need to be ready for the task the Valar will lay upon your young shoulders." Glorfindel lost his pleasant expression and for the first time we saw a serious side. "My task is to stay by your side and protect you. I have the ability to return in spirit to Taniquetil and get orders or report. I haven't gone yet, but will soon. And as for your fighting abilities; I will be the judge if you can weld a sword more proficiently than an elfling."_

" _I don't need a nursemaid," Elrond vehemently protested; anger in his eyes and stance rigid. "If you insist on staying here, protect our king."_

" _My last king was Turgon," Glorfindel calmly answered. "I still am bound to the line of Fingolfin until all his linage departs Middle Earth. I took an oath on bended knee to Lord Manwë when he bestowed lesser Maia powers and ordered me to these lands once more. I will stay until your offspring sail or die."_

 _Elrond thought to himself, 'Bet he bloody well reads my mind,' but audibled, "What exactly are your duties? I mean what are you to be doing while waiting for catastrophe to strike?"_

" _I'll keep myself amused and train you and Erestor for battle."_

" _We were trained by Círdan and the captains. I doubt you can add to our skills." Elrond wanted to see him get angry, but the infuriating elf just laughed. He wondered what it would take to ruffle Glorfindel's feathers and the thought of finding out soothed his irritation. "Just don't let me trip over you." Sitting, he turned back to Círdan and dismissed Glorfindel, but was actually quite stunned to be in the same room as a twice born and a thousand questions surfaced._

 _Glorfindel sat back down looking pleased._

* * *

" _You don't need to come with me tonight," Elrond howled when he rose to depart with Gil-galad and Glorfindel also motioned for his cloak._

 _That grin was back and I almost wished Elrond would ask for my assistance so I could accompany them. I caught Círdan giving me a surprised look._

" _My place is at your side," Glorfindel reminded him. "There will come a day when you will not feel whole unless I am there. Might as well integrate our fëas from day one. Having lost a twin, you are accustom to sharing your fëa and I feel it needs a companion once more."_

" _Why did the Valar choose you to fill that need?" Elrond asked and we could feel his fëa was irritated and it reflected in his odd mix of Maia, man and elf features._

" _Because I know what it is like to have had a special best friend." Glorfindel pointed to me, while keeping gazes locked with Elrond. "His adar was that friend. We grew up together in Aman and crossed the Helcaraxë and became as close as brothers. Ecthelion is still with Lord Mandos, as is Erestor's naneth. Someday they will join the living and I will introduce their iôn to him when Erestor sails or joins them in waiting should his fighting skills prove to be that of a librarian." He laughed at me and continued. "+I have already spoken with Gil-galad and he has agreed to turn you over to me." He looked towards Círdan. "I have foreseen that Erestor will join us until the end. We three will rule the Misty Mountains."_

 _Círdan bowed his head respectfully, while Elrond and I exchanged shocked looks._

" _I think Celebrimbor, Oropher and Celeborn might take issue with that last statement," Elrond protested. I am not High King, nor shall I ever be."_

 _Glorfindel once again smiled. "No, you won't."_

" _I'll arrange to have Erestor relocated to your home, Gil-galad," Círdan stated when nobody spoke._

 _I threw a stunned look to the elf whose home I resided in for centuries. "Are you no longer requiring my services?" I asked in fear. What would I do for a living should I be displaced from the only home I really knew._

 _Círdan smiled kindly at me. "Your time here is over. You now will start the next phase of your life; one I pray I trained you well enough to handle. Glorfindel is correct; you must form a close alliance; you three."_

" _Tomorrow, we greet my cousin, Galadriel," Glorfindel suddenly announced with a smile._

 _Elrond rolled his eyes in disbelief and I offered a wager, which Glorfindel accepted._

* * *

Thráin marked his place and started eating the cooling food, Picket, placed before him silently several minutes before. As he ate, he contemplated his time with Glorfindel. The elf attended all the meetings and other than being entertaining with his coveting of wine, didn't appear to protect Elrond. In fact, Thráin remembered when the Nazgûl attacked; Glorfindel chose to fight beside Celeborn, but not before insuring Lord Elrond had Erestor at his side. He hurried through his meal and returned to where the light was better for reading with his one aging eye.

 _Halfway across Middle Earth, another glorious day dawned in Caras Galadhon. Celeborn and his building crew were working on his home in the tallest Mallorn and Galadriel slipped down to her mirror, enjoying the spring day alive with colorful song birds, serenading her and the flowers that opened peddles to catch the first rays of sun._

 _Galadriel wasn't sure what she would find, but a niggling thought that events were going to shift pulled her onward. She dipped pure water from a statue of an elleth maid holding a basin, and poured it into her mirror waters to mingle living water with stagnant. A beautiful sunrise burst forth across the waters and she almost looked up until she realized the mirror had come to life. Mist was rising off waters and the bow of a boat with a graceful swan neck and head leading the way parted fog and burned it away from the vessel. Interested, Galadriel wondered at this vision. Rarely did she receive a gift from the sea. She could see a golden haired being on board and what looked like a white horse, but his features were obscured in the fog. Stone walls and the docks of the Havens formed on the outside of her mirror, so she knew the location. Patiently she waited._

 _Far above, Celeborn was guiding another hewed beam into place that would serve to support the floor for the great receiving hall he was building. Each timber was cut from Mallorn branches and shaped square on all four sides with axes welded by masters of their craft and was thirty feet in length. He designed the total length to be ninety feet and width sixty. He assisted lifting with the help of pulleys and strong backs to move the timber into place on a joist; which was also a cut branch of the giant tree. He grabbed an iron spike that was four feet long and two inches wide and with a mighty hammer drove it through the drilled beam into living wood. He placed a hand on the tree afterwards, 'I know this is uncomfortable. We will be finished soon and not have to break your skin and disrupt your flow of nourishment for a long time.' Done talking to the tree, Celeborn rested on the handle of his sledgehammer and waited for elves to finish tacking the other end down._

 _Sun burnt the final vestiges of obscuring vapor and Galadriel gasp aloud and murmured, "What in the name of the Valar is going on?" She knew that face and her heart raced and hands trembled with excitement and fear._

 _Celeborn threw a frown downward. He called out to his foreman, "Bring the next beam up. I'll be back." He let the handle drop and jumped onto the beam he just anchored; leaping beams until standing on the edge of the great staircase he already finished. Racing around the tree in a downward spiral, he was soon at her mirror. "What did you see?"_

" _An improbable sight. For some reason the Valar are allowing me to think a dead ellon is coming back, both from the dead and to these shores. I'm sure is it an allegory for an event yet to appear on the horizon."_

 _Impatient, he interrupted, "What did the blasted mirror show you?"_

 _Peeved at his tone, she snapped back. "Nothing much, hervenn_ _nín; just Glorfindel on a small ship, with a smile for those gathering at the docks."_

" _As in your cousin?" Celeborn clarified._

" _As in something unlikely. I remember Adar telling of Fingon returning from the Halls to act as regent of Tirion before he sailed here with his army. Why would they return an elf and why him?" The mirror went dark and she turned questioning eyes to her mate. "I need answers and they are in the Haven's. I'm going there."_

" _I can't get away right now," he protested._

" _I don't want Celebrían to leave her projects right now either," Galadriel agreed. "I'll ask an eagle to fly me for a short visit."_

 _Celeborn pondered her suggestion. "Well, that would leave me peace to finish the floor without having to run every few minutes down here because you can't control your fëa. I don't need this distraction right now."_

" _I just turned my short visit into a several year hiatus."_

" _You can't leave your daughter for that long," he scoffed, but inside felt a twinge of fear; she might be telling the truth._

" _Elrond needs my attentions also," she reminded him of their duty to the young elf. "We practically abandoned him and his brother and I'm sure are responsible for Elros' choice. We shouldn't have listened to Lord Eönwë and allowed the boys to grow up in the palace of Círdan, with only sparse visits from us. It's settled; I'm getting ready." She made to go around him and had her arm snagged in a vise grip._

" _Why don't you wait a few days and see if your mirror explains what you just saw."_

 _She arched a perfect eyebrow, "We have established that I'm a distraction; I'm leaving."_

 _He was stunned. Never before had she left their daughter and he hastened after her to their temporary home in a smaller Mallorn he built centuries before while waiting for his chosen tree to reach the desired height. "What if Celebrían has a female issue?"_

" _The only issue of that nature she is having involves all the young ellon her age. I'm sure you can handle them while I'm gone."_

 _Celeborn frowned at her departing back and in a few strides was at her side as they wound up the tree. "I'm not sure what you're saying. I've not seen any improper behavior and our daughter is well chaperoned."_

 _Galadriel graced him with a mischievous smile. "That's because they would have to face me. I'm sure when they realize the witch is gone and the adar lenient; they will suggest she go walking with them and their handpicked chaperones."_

" _They have to ask me first," he gloated._

" _I'm sure they will," she laughingly teased and opened her armoire._

" _If any try, they will face me with sword. I'll make an example of the first and not have any problems with the rest."_

 _She turned and patted his cheek as she slipped by him, "Just remember, you need the young ellon's swords in future wars."_

" _Not if they are inappropriate with our only child."_

* * *

 _Gwaihir floated high above trees, fields and waters as he carried Galadriel west. Landroval carried her luggage and flew a few paces back as not to block her view of the vast woodlands sprinkled with meadows and lakes. She summoned them with her mirror and said she had urgent business in Mithlond._

 _Elves stopped their work and pursuits when the two great eagles descended into the Havens and landed on Círdan's manicured lawn. He hurried from his palace and greeted them warmly. Seeing it was Galadriel that caught a ride, he laughed and hurried to hug her when her feet touched grass after a graceful jump. "Somehow I am not surprised to see you." He gestured; first to his servants to take her bags and then her to walk with him; stopping to thank the eagles once more, as did Galadriel._

 _"Return in four months for me," she requested._

 _Círdan guided her down a path instead of through his front door._

" _I see my bags are taken to your home, but I am to be boarded elsewhere?" she asked when he led her down a cobblestone path she knew led to the king's palace a short distance away._

 _He chuckled, "If you are here then you know about our guest for your reason of an impromptu visit."_

" _So my mirror didn't lie," she almost whispered. "I so longed to see anyone from the First Age I convinced myself the vision could not be real and shock to my_ _fëa had Celeborn racing to my side and most unhappy that particular cousin drew him from his labors_ _."_

" _And why did husband not come?" Círdan queried with sideways look at her._

" _He is building his dream home in the Mallorns. He plans on being moved in within a hundred years, so is overseeing construction and driving his workers to exhaustion. I am a distraction; his words, not mine."_

 _Círdan laughed. "I am glad you brought your distracting self for a visit, but must take you to task for not bringing your daughter."_

" _She is finishing her final projects in with her tutors. Celeborn and I are planning at least a hundred years on the shores of the sea for her to seek higher learning among your brightest educators."_

" _You plan on her attending my university?" Círdan asked, afraid he misunderstood._

" _She must learn healing, architecture, all manner of plants and animals and much more as granddaughter of the High King. She will be well prepared when she takes a husband and I foresee many centuries before that occurs."_

 _They stopped at Gil-galad's door and a bowing guard quickly opened for them to enter the large hall, where his subjects milled about, seeking advice from the lords who operated out of the palace. Círdan didn't stop to talk with any of the lords, but they all bowed to him and Galadriel when she passed. He gave a quick rap on a door and threw it open when his attendant quickly opened for them at Gil-galad's statement that_ _Círdan was visiting_ _._

 _Galadriel entered and immediately was engulfed by Glorfindel in a hug that lasted several minutes. She had tears in her eyes when they parted after several kisses to cheeks._

 _I, Erestor, in the meantime collected coin from my pocket and Elrond and when the irritating elf managed to pull away from the blessed lady; he reached without looking for his payout._

* * *

 _Galadriel stayed for the summer. Daily, she could be seen walking with Glorfindel along the quays and their conversations private. We would pump him at night for a tidbit and his face would light from within and he would sip wine and speak not._

 _I moved all my possessions to a set of rooms on the same floor as Elrond. Glorfindel was given an exact suite across the hall from me and most mornings found him waiting for me to join him to break the fast. To my relief, Gil-galad latched onto my services and soon I was keeping his records and managing part of his household. Elrond resumed his training as a master healer during the days and evenings were spent dining with Galadriel and Glorfindel at the residence of Círdan. Slowly we became accustom to his being there. Parties were numerous and everyone of note wanted to meet the twice-born. I never saw him throw a cross look or sharp tone and accepted praise naturally as if born to it. He freely answered many questions and I started to get a mental picture of Aman and Taniquetil. It dawned on me that I should be writing all this down, so nightly upon retiring, I penned all he said. The volumes of Glorfindel are many and I accept my humble part in his life. We developed a rapport over me clarifying details for the books I would write. Elrond wasn't so quick to warm up to him and didn't want Elros' place in his heart and fëa to be displaced, so guarded himself around Glorfindel._

 _The day before Galadriel departed on the backs of the great eagles, Glorfindel stated, "Tomorrow we begin training. I will make top soldiers out of you both."_

" _What about my duties to King Gil-galad?" I protested._

" _I will not run off like an elfling ditching studies and my healing skills," Elrond echoed._

 _Galadriel's musical laughter rang forth. "I daresay, Gil-galad will survive, Erestor. And as for you, Elrond; my cousin was one of the best warriors and only one to kill a Balrog. You can learn much from him; both in fighting and leading warriors in battle."_

 _Gil-galad, quickly added, "It's an order from your king. Many would give all they have to learn under the tutelage of this great lord and you two whine like elflings tasked with making your own beds."_

" _Instruct them well, Glorfindel," Galadriel commanded the next morning, as Gwaihir stretched his wings for flight._

" _And you inform Oropher, Amdír and Celeborn they must be here in no more than fifty years for another trade meeting," Círdan called up to her._

 _She smiled and nodded, "I shall endeavor to part all of them from their building projects."_

* * *

 _Círdan: I withheld an opinion of Glorfindel. I only met him a few times while he walked in the First Age, for my path diverged from King Fingolfin's. Stories would come our way of the hidden elven city, closed off from commerce and Glorfindel's name was frequently mentioned. I remember him prevalent in the group of lords who accompanied the king when traveling. I also witnessed the group that guarded the king easily route Elu Thingol's finest in games at Celeborn and Galadriel's wedding. Those elves lived off the land and were completely self-sufficient._

 _That Elrond and Erestor could learn much, I had no doubt and it was time to finally speak. The evening feast on the day Galadriel departed, I issued my opinion of Glorfindel to Elrond and Erestor. "Galdor serves as my right hand; mainly due to his being one of twelve lords to serve the late King Fingolfin. Fingolfin demanded the finest warriors at his side, and they were the best that crossed the ice. I've watched Glorfindel these five months he has lived among us. He lost nothing in the Halls of Waiting of his previous knowledge and skills. I recognize a fellow Maia touched spirit, and Elrond; you would not be chosen for this honor if not for the Maia blood in you. Mere elves cannot have their fëas seared by Maia and endure without the help of the Valar. Your duties are hereby suspended until Glorfindel informs Gil-galad and I that you both meet his approval with sword and bow."_


	29. 29 House Of The Golden Flower Pt 3

_The trio of eastern lords and their cubs rode into the Havens twenty years after Círdan instructed Galadriel to bid them come. Círdan spotted immediately they were without Galadriel. Glorfindel had Elrond and I in the training arena, so a page was dispatched to inform us we had guests for our evening meal to be eaten at the lord's house._

 _Gil-galad was also on hand when the horn tapped a cadence of important visitors approaching. They dismounted at Círdan's front door and Celeborn, Orophin and Amdír bowed their heads in greeting to the High King and Círdan._

" _I assume you have a valid reason for not bringing your better half and elfling?" Círdan inquired pleasantly to Celeborn after hugs and Sindarin greetings._

 _Celeborn growled something inaudible with only swear words clearly caught._

" _Eh, bruin meldir, I didn't catch it all," Círdan asked with unconcealed mirth in his request. Anything that could get Celeborn this angry was worth pursuing._

" _I said, the witch I married won't allow Celebrían on this particular trip. I was allowed to bring my only child when she was a baby, but now, she must remain cloistered among the Mallorns until it is time; or something to that effect. My throat is parched and now I need something to calm my wrath."_

 _The kings and their sons, Thranduil and Amroth, departed to the baths along with Celeborn about the same time Glorfindel, Elrond and I sank into the pool for soldiers to clean sweat and dirt from ourselves before greeting Círdan's latest round of guests._

" _Really, Glorfindel," I chastised him. "Why must we use this bathing pool when the baths at Gil-galad's are warmer and cleaner?"_

 _Glorfindel naturally smiled at us first. "Because his baths are currently occupied by soldiers at his invitation. I went for five years without bathing once."_

 _I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure you exaggerate."_

" _No, Glorfindel actually did so," Elrond corrected me. "Remember the Helcaraxë?"_

 _I conceded and we finished our cleaning in silence. I too was curious as who graced Círdan's palace and had a thought of horror that it might be another annoying twice-born."_

* * *

 _I'm glad now to be chosen by Glorfindel as a companion and friend. For the meeting between him and Celeborn was one for the record books and I had a front row seat._

 _We hastened to our assigned destination in clean clothes and robes brought from our chambers by servants of Gil-galad's house. Círdan's main hall was crowded with lords visiting the new arrivals, so we weren't immediately noticed as we stood just in the doorway._

 _Gil-galad spotted us first and nudged Círdan, who in turn called for quiet. "King's Oropher, Amdir and Lord Celeborn, may I present Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower."_

 _Glorfindel strode to the ellon, glowed from within and bowed respectfully, with his ever present smile in place. "My lords, you've aged rapidly these past two thousand years. I recommend a stay with Lord Mandos to preserve what is left of your prime."_

" _Why is Manwë punishing us?" Oropher replied for the three just as mockingly. "I was convinced Galadriel was lying when she returned with absurd stories that they allowed you to return; both from the dead and to these quiet shores."_

" _I didn't get to meet you formally," Amdír took his turn before Glorfindel could mount a comeback. "You were guarding Fingolfin back then?"_

" _Yes," was all Glorfindel said and turned his attention to Celeborn. "Am I also banned from Lothlórien?"_

 _There was and uncomfortable silence at his statement and finally Amdír recovered from his shock and protested, "Nay, you are welcome into my kingdom. Celeborn isn't in charge there."_

 _This time the room gasped at the audacity of the king and Celeborn turned his attention squarely upon him. "There was a time you bowed down to me and it was I who granted your wish to be called king."_

" _I apologize, Lord Celeborn. I forget when you moved to my kingdom that you are the rightful heir to the title and for you to not forfeit my title is generous of you."_

 _Celeborn pierced him with a withering look that said he didn't believe one word and everyone in the room was relieved it wasn't directed at them and there was a collective sigh when he turned back to Glorfindel. "Galadriel sends greetings and mentioned we must spar for some reason."_

 _Glorfindel gave a bow of his head in acceptance. "So, am I banned from Lothlórien?" Amdír remained wisely quiet and allowed the greater lords their sport._

 _I didn't understand what Glorfindel was asking, but it was obvious there was history between them that wasn't all good._

" _You cost me many nights alone when word reached my wife's ears I turned you away. She was slow to forgive and threatened to leave the girdle and search for Aredhel when the extent of our distain for the Ñoldor became clear."_

" _So it was a ruse; allowing the Ñoldor to stay in Menegroth for your wedding?" Glorfindel asked quietly and all strained pointed ears to not miss one word._

 _We were seeing a serious side to Glorfindel and wouldn't wish to face him thus; although Celeborn didn't seemed fazed or didn't show it by standing tall before his equal of Maia powers._

" _While I was indisposed with my bride, several Ñoldor stole into our vault and helped themselves to bags of jewels and coin. Melian, of course, saw them in her mirror and Fingolfin was ushered before her and Thingol to explain. When the thieves were brought before Fingolfin; he pleaded against their imprisonment and said he was responsible for his warrior's behavior, but denied any precognizant knowledge. Melian, sitting on her throne beside our king, said otherwise._

 _Even Círdan looked shocked and interrupted, "Celeborn, I've never heard this story."_

 _Celeborn shifted his gaze to Círdan and then stared back into Glorfindel's eyes. "I heard verbatim from Elu Thingol. He told me Melian's exact words. 'King Fingolfin, you are in fact very aware your captain's are spying our layout and location of armories and wealth. In fact several maps have found their way into your possession.'"_

" _I don't believe it," Glorfindel all but snarled and stepped closer to Celeborn, who didn't back down._

" _Thingol sent guards to search Fingolfin's rooms and found three maps detailing quarters and hallways. I know, because I was allowed to look at them after they were confiscated. Elu Thingol decreed, 'Abusing our hospitality comes with a great price. You will leave tomorrow with your entire host and never be allowed to set foot inside the Girdle of Melian again and that decree falls upon your iôns to lowest servant. If my new great niece-in-law wishes contact; it will be done elsewhere. In time she will learn her family is nothing more than thieving, kinslaying Ñoldor trash, but I'll not spoil her wedding with this trivial matter. When she and Celeborn make an appearance, I will explain you had to leave hastily. For all your blustering about your brother, Fëanor; you act just like him.'"_

 _Glorfindel reflected back to that day. "Word was circulated that orcs were invading Hithlum and getting close to Barad Eithel. We rode hard and long only to find our city intact and those left to defend it looking at us as if we were crazy. Fingolfin immediately stated it was well we left anyway because we beat Thingol's finest warriors at every match and it would lead to violence. We didn't dwell further on our hasty departure and got back to work on Gondolin. What did Galadriel say when told?"_

" _She never was informed." Celeborn looked at everyone in the room and snarled, "I suppose it is asking too much for all of you to remain silent."_

" _I think for passage freely anytime I choose to visit Lothlórien and any place you wish to bar me; we can convince those present that upsetting Galadriel after all this time isn't necessary," Glorfindel smoothly answered._

" _I say we have a contest I was denied during my wedding against you. Pick any three events and you have to win two for free passage into my kingdom. You choose weapons and I'll choose the game."_

 _Amdír flinched at that, but didn't want to face an irate Celeborn's sword._

 _Glorfindel smiled, "Lance, sword and bow."_

" _Three hundred yards; six tries for kill shots on stuffed deer, bear, elk, ram, pig and orc. Two swords; loser it the one who loses one of his swords. Fifty arrows; twenty targets at various distances and obstacles. Five doubles and three triples."_

 _The fëas in the room were dancing with excitement and silent pleas to Círdan garnered a response we hoped. He raised his arms and stepped between the two posturing lords. We will make it a city-wide event, complete with a fair for the youngsters. You will not face each other tomorrow, but in one week. We will have other warriors perform their skills all day until two in the afternoon. Then you two will begin. Celeborn will represent Sindar and Silvan elves and Glorfindel the Vanyar and Ñoldor._

" _Wait," Gil-galad ordered. "Celeborn, you were the one who personally turned Lady Aredhel and her escort away when they sought entrance to Menegroth. I say we are missing something between these two."_

 _Once again those in the room looked at the lords._

 _Celeborn flinched first, "He was in my personal chambers way too often. I would open my door in the middle of the night for a stroll and he would be skulking in the hall. I complained to Melian and Thingol, but they allowed this irritating elf access to my home and I had no say and for that I resent him."_

" _I believe those nightly strolls were in the direction of my cousin's bedchamber," Glorfindel clarified and we all laughed._

" _Galadriel liked having you guarding her for some unknown reason. On top of Glorfindel, my cavern was invaded by all the royal Ñoldor's and my personal guards. Some nights up to a dozen of them were making themselves at home while I was trying to rest."_

" _Overpowering Turgon and stealing his clothes in an attempt to reach Galadriel's bedchamber was low even for you," Glorfindel stated with a smirk. "You have a long list if seeking revenge for us guarding her honor." He splayed the fingers of his right hand across his chest for emphases. "I was chosen for my lack of guile and strength of sword. In one week, I'll display why Fingolfin chose me."_

" _I'm taking bets," I hollered out and was mobbed._

 _Celeborn: I never got a chance to test my sword arm or agility against Glorfindel in the First Age. If I didn't want another hundred years added to my wait, I wasn't allowed to physically attack my chaperones; although the Turgon incident got me a severe reprimand and threat. I behaved reasonably well after that._

 _Celeborn: Galadriel returned from her visit all smiles and happy. She talked for days on her cousin and all he told her about her family in Aman. I could see it made her happy, so decided when opportunity for a break presented itself, I would ride to the Havens and see for myself if it really was her cousin or some magic of Sauron. As soon as my eyes lit on him; I was taken back to that day when I was on patrol of Melian's Girdle and came upon him and Aredhel and two more searching for a way in. Having my orders; I found myself resenting Thingol for what I had to do. I stood firm as they pleaded entrance. They claimed to be seeking the treacherous Sons of Fëanor. I gave them a route to Fëanor's realm and departed their presence, lest I defy Thingol and let them come and see Galadriel. I never saw Glorfindel again until that day in Círdan's home. I now understand why Galadriel and Írimë insisted on Glorfindel's presence. I would have killed any other male from her family except him. He has a way about him that is different from all others. You can't help but be drawn to his likeable fëa and elfling like innocence. We talked much the week leading up to our contest and dined every evening together. My wife would expect nothing less of me._

* * *

 _Oropher: He easily beat my best warriors in the games Elu Thingol provided for our entertainment at Celeborn's wedding. He carried the Ñoldor banner when they entered the arena each day. I wanted to hate him on one hand and have him at my side on the other. That Fingolfin marched proudly at his side and at games end, declared Glorfindel his finest warrior, seared his face into my memory. I insisted on a match against him towards games end, as I couldn't take not knowing any longer. I had to know who was the greatest of us; him or me. I was chosen to lead many Sindar and Silvan elves for my skills as a warrior and lord in the halls of Doriath. I chose swords and we squared off. I fought my finest and when I was sure the victory was mine for another mark on the Sindar side of the scoreboard, he slapped my wrist in a move my eyes couldn't follow and my left hand sword flew from my grasp. The horn sounded end of the contest and I was looking into the grinning face of one whose hair matched mine for brightness. I conceded and it makes me root all that much more for Celeborn to win. I still see the same likable elf that elflings follow, as when he was at Celeborn's wedding. That one meeting left an eternal impression._

 _Thranduil: I was the elf who pushed to ride to the Havens when word reached us of the twice-born. I was born just after he died and became the newfound hero of elvendom. I was raised on hero worship of him and a carved figurine to play with, so of course wished to meet one so great. My adar recalled losing to him in the sparring ring and that story left me speechless. My adar was the greatest elf of all time and I only dreamed of filling his boots. It was interesting that story of my adar's defeat surfaced only when Glorfindel reappeared. I'm sure it would remain forgotten had he stayed dead. My turn came for introduction by my adar and I stood tall; and was happy to see my height matched his and he didn't tower over me more than an inch or so. Glorfindel lit from within and I saw the light of Aman for the first time in his face and he grasped my forearm as if greeting a warrior, instead of a princeling cut down in his first battle and left scarred and hideous. Although my exterior was made perfect, I was at an age the inner healing was still progressing. I thought him humoring me with the warrior handshake, but he spoke with much kindness and sincerity. 'Thranduil, I rejoiced with the dead when your name graced Queen Vairë's tapestries. We pleaded with Lord Mandos not to send you to us and Queen Varda heard his prayers and spared you. We shall have a long and lasting friendship.' For the first time in my life, I felt independence from my adar and knew Glorfindel was speaking to me as an individual and not my adar's heir. I felt elfling hero worship returning and scoffed silently at the notion, but found myself near him at day's end to hear the stories and was relieved that many my age devoted evenings to his lore. Elrond and Erestor were his constant companions and I envied them._

 _Amdír: Every time an elf sailed from the west, we were met with change and losses of life. His return bode ill for us and I hoped Celeborn banned Glorfindel from our realm and Oropher closed Greenwood the Great to him and the Ñoldor in general. These mandatory trips to pay homage to a foreign invader who called himself king of all elves grated on my nerves; not to mention upset the balance of my fëa. I was relieved when he greeted me perfunctorily and didn't extend a personal message. The meetings couldn't end soon enough and I didn't care about Celeborn's need to see who was the greater warrior._

 _Amroth: I feared I would dishonor my adar and stumble over my words upon greeting one so famous and a reborn to boot. I used to beg adar and naneth to read stories about Gondolin before sleeping. I lost my fear of death when he described the peacefulness of the afterlife and those who died so long ago and felt at times he was talking directly to me. I was the youngest of the royals that gathered nightly around the lord and was overjoyed to be included with his entourage along with Elrond, Erestor, Fálmar and Thranduil as we strode city lanes, exploring and tasting wine in every tavern while the kings and lords conducted boring meetings._

 _Fálmar: It was only natural that I take over as guide when the kings of the east visited. I let it be known to Thranduil and Amroth it was I who was on the docks that day when he arrived. My mind was only partially with the group for I was on pins and needles waiting the results of one particular meeting. My adar, Lord Fálwë, was meeting with Lord Celeborn to arrange a betrothal between the elfling, Celebrían and me. I let my mind wander what we would call a son. I'm sure Lord Celeborn would insist part of his name incorporated, so started thinking….Fálborn came to mind, but I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud until a hand slapped me on the back of the head and Glorfindel's mouth was in my ear. 'It will never happen, pen neth.' Startled, I felt my ears redden and was glad the others weren't paying attention, but looking at a pod of dolphins in the fjord. I would remember not to telegraph my thoughts so loudly around one with Maia powers. I'm sure Glorfindel didn't know everything; including just how persuasive my adar was._

* * *

 _The day of the match arrived with elves from all over Lindon descending upon The Havens. A simple contest turned into a three day fair; complete with booths full of wares and judging fall harvests. The warriors that traveled with Celeborn and Oropher were eager to compete against those of the Havens. Elflings ran free among the legs of adults shouting and laughing, and their play rang from one end of the area to the other._

 _Promptly at two; all activity ceased; booths closed and elflings were gathered by parents that crowded into a large coliseum, leaving only a few guards with promise of extra pay for their sacrifice._

 _Glorfindel entered from one end, carrying a banner with Vanyar logo on one side and Ñoldor on the other. He wore black leggings and tunic with golden flowers embroidered over button holes and down the outside of his leggings. Emerging at the same time, Celeborn hoisted high the banner of the Sindar and Silvan elves likewise on each side of the cloth. His attire was Sindar grey with dark blue embroidery of Elu Thingol's House down each arm. They met in the middle and crossed staves to the roaring of the crowd._

 _Círdan joined them and in a loud voice detailed the first event. "The targets are being set up. Glorfindel, you will go first. If both of you make a killing shot on all six targets, a hundred yards will be added until one of you misses a kill zone. The pace starts at three hundred yards."_

 _The crowd grew quiet and Glorfindel easily placed his six spears in kill spots. Celeborn stunned us with like display and the targets were moved back. Again they displayed why they were the best and the targets reached five hundred yards. Glorfindel's aim was true and Celeborn just place his last lance into the ram's neck; and it deemed not a kill. Round one went to Glorfindel._

 _Again Círdan motioned them to him in the center of the arena. "Well played. Next comes the bows because I want both of you fresh when you spar. You can see where the targets are being set. Are you both sure this is the first time your eyes alight upon them? Both ellon nodded. "Celeborn, you go first," Círdan instructed._

 _Celeborn's skill with bow is legendary and he easily beat Glorfindel, who had one of his triple arrows bounce off a block and into the stands. A warrior caught it and raised it above his head while the crowd laughed and applauded. Glorfindel raised his own hand and accepted his defeat with a smile._

 _Some would argue who really won the first two rounds, but the last event is still being talked about by elves that are still on these shores and those who have long sailed. We watched two masters of the sword facing in the center of the arena, a sword in each hand. They saluted with all four swords clashing over their heads in salute and the match was on. For the longest time, neither gained the upper hand and slowly after an hour of fast movements both slowed down so we could actually follow their moves. Not a sound was heard from the crowd; just rapid successions of metal on metal. After three hours and the sun sinking in the west, neither would concede the match; although both were heaving and dripping in sweat. Círdan shouted DARO and the swords clashed and held. He stepped between the exhausted warriors and commanded quietly, "Put your swords down." He turned and raised his voice, "I haven't seen an exhibition like this since Olórin challenged Eönwë to a fight during the War of the Wrath and they fought for a week without ceasing. It took Lord Manwë_ _to break it up and he swore to Olórin he would get even with him someday for losing his temper." I call this contest a draw, and…" he turned to Celeborn, "I suggest you let him and the Ñoldor into your realm; for I see a much needed alliance before the end of the ages."_

 _Glorfindel nodded, "Yes, someday all elves will be united."_

" _Until then, Ñoldor can stay away from me," Celeborn demanded, humiliated that he lost one bought and couldn't best Glorfindel at swordplay._

" _I hope that doesn't include your wife or daughter," Glorfindel merrily replied and the crowd laughed as they broke up for the evening feast and end of the impromptu fair._

Thráin heard the knock on the door, but kept reading. His ears perked up at the exchange when he heard, "Tell his majesty, the caravan is almost ta the bridge." He sighed and marked his place before Picket reached him. Rising, he buckled on his sword and checked his body for knives. "Is the warrior who banged on the door one of them?" He brought up young Thorin's difficulty.

"Aye," Picket answered.

"Tell him ta personally go an get Thorin an bring him here."

Picket grinned and hurried to the door.

The guard ground his molars, but banged just as loudly on the door down the hall. It was thrown open by an old dwarrowdam. "You better have a good reason disrupting us this late."

"I'm ta fetch master Thorin Stonehelm ta the king's chambers."

He marched ahead of the youth; more out of chagrin than a need to protect him. He banged once more and found the king, elven weapon at his side and many knife handles prominently displayed from wrist to boot standing just inside the door the servant answered. "Master Thorin Stonehelm, your majesty." He stepped back against the wall.


	30. 30 Dovad Blunders

Dori waited at the foot of the rampart and followed them up the steps into the night air. Thráin, already decked in his opulent armor, saw from his one eye that the caravan was almost upon them. "Hurry; all of ye need ta be in armor lest ya make an easy target for the bulk of Dóvad's army." Appointed guards rushed to keep up; not understanding why the Durin's made haste to the armory after just ascending to watch another group of Longbeards return home. The Company with Thráin quickly donned Mithril armor with gold inlays as a sign of great wealth. Thorin stood proud in his new armor the king designated as his from this day forth.

"Dori, as soon as the doors open, find Dóvad an bring him an his family before me. I'll be on the throne waiting. Also, find Dáin an the Company first an have them provide the escort duties an take their place at my sides. Balin is overseeing the warriors an helping Lötun with security, but promised he will be in the area should ye need ah hand." He looked at young Thorin. "I know ye want ta be front an center, but yer place is at my left side tonight. When yer father joins us; move down one, so his place is pronounced as heir apparent should Thorin die. Balin will stand on my right an the rest know what ta do."

"No, King Thráin; I'll get plenty of chances ta watch caravans arrive at Erebor, but only one chance ta ever stand as yer second. Ye honor me." Thorin hoped his effusiveness wasn't over the top.

Thráin smirked and hurried to his place, glancing to a hidden balcony as he took the throne. Sure enough the Durin ladies forgo a night's sleep to watch the proceedings.

Ori stood self-consciously; aware he was the only Durin before the massive gates and wished the king would join him, or any Durin. He smiled in relief when Dori slid to a stop on his left and Bombur took up post on his other side. The large horn sounded and they knew the citizens of Dale just woke, as did the mountain. The massive, iron gates creeped outwards and elven horses entered before the gate was fully extended.

Thranduil and Celeborn, riding side by side, led the procession and veered to the rampart side of the cavern and dismounted. Thranduil motioned the soldiers to take their horses to the barns. Dori, Ori and Bombur issued identical bows to honor them and turned their attention to the open doors and to see who followed the elves.

Gandalf, with a piercing gaze looking for Thráin, was at the head of a long procession being stacked much as Dáin's wagons when he first arrived in the mountain. He swung long legs over Shadowfax and landed lightly before the three. The horse was quickly led away by an elf. Settling his eyes lastly upon the three dwarves waiting to greet him, his expression morphed into a warm smile. "Greetings, my friends." He let his gaze sweep the colossal cave once more and spoke in Sindarin, "Where is the king?"

"Waiting, Gandalf," Dori quickly responded. "Now if ye will excuse me, I have my orders."

Gandalf watched him scurry to Dwalin and Óin with narrowed eyes. They were up to something and he would keep a close eye on the leaders of the mountain. For now, he wanted to witness Dóvad's first time in Erebor and was aware when Thranduil and Celeborn silently sidled next to him.

"The fun is about to begin," Thranduil uttered gleefully.

Dáin entered and looked around until he spotted his target, General Lötun, and fingers signed that all was ready from without, and received a nod the mountain was secure within from the general. He took a moment to receive Dori's message and with other hand signals, gathered the Company into a tight group at the head of the caravan. There they waited for Dóvad's family to alight from the wagon and ponies.

Tears rolled down Risári's weathered cheeks and the years fell away. "It is like I left yesterday."

Lári, close to her mother, for fear of strange dwarves, who came from deep within the mountain, wanted to look every place at once and heard Lióni whisper, "In all my fantasies, none came within a thought of size and beauty. Look at all the statues and carvings and all the gold…," she trailed off, mouth still open and head cranked towards pillars and the large golden bell above their heads.

"I tried to tell you lass all I saw, but words cannot describe the wonders of Erebor," Risári told her granddaughter.

"I was very young when we fled the mountain, but it is all coming back. I remember grandfather had an office in that direction," she pointed. He would stand beside the king on the balcony where he would address all of Erebor and the acoustics are such everyone in this large cavern hears as if they are standing before him."

Dismounting, Dóvad knew immediately he was being scrutinized by every dwarf in the cavern and uneasiness swept over him with a feeling they weren't just curious of new arrivals. His eyes were drawn to a dwarf that garnered respect from the way everyone parted and bowed when he made an appearance from a hallway under the stairs to the rampart. The face was older, but he would know Lord Balin anywhere and watched as he hurried to the group of Durin's and greeted his brother with a head butt.

Tóvad bumped his father's shoulder, "Did ye ever see such ah sight? I hope ta be wed off ta ah Durin lass an forced ta live here."

"You haven't seen anything yet, Tóvad," Risári commented to her only grandson.

Their moment was over when a grey haired dwarf intruded into their space, "Excuse me, I'm Lord Dori, cousin to the king. He wishes to see all of your family, dams included. Please follow me."

"That's a good sign when King Thorin wants to formally welcome you to the mountain," Risári explained and fell in behind the dwarrow of the family.

The Company with Dáin brought up the rear and Gandalf, Thranduil and Celeborn, uninvited, trailed the dwarves. General Lötun hand signed for his warriors to close all exits and the doors of the mountain swung shut to the consternation of Dóvad 's army. They saw those open doors as a means of escape should this be a trick and started grumbling among themselves. He mounted to the balcony overhanging the entrance cavern. "Please listen up. Tonight ye will camp here an tomorrow the king will address ye an then ye will be taken ta yer family chambers. Since Gandalf pushed through half the night ta get ye ta safety, our servants assisting ye are sleeping."

Dóvad 's stomach tightened when his family was separated from his lords and army leaving a bad feeling this wasn't a benign greeting his mother-in-law predicted. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder and whispered, "If this be ah trap, escape ta carry on my name."

Tóvad stopped his gawking and looked with eyes of a young warrior. Sure enough, many strange guards looked at them with cold eyes. He gulped at the thought of having to jump off the causeway for the fall would surely kill him. He saw more dwarves looking up at them from a floor that appeared to be made from a sheet of gold. Then he saw a light at the end of the causway; a strange, wonderful, mesmerizing stone; the likes he didn't know existed.

Dóvad took in his surroundings, and although Longbeards from Erebor detailed the throne and Arkenstone; he was still in awe. He expected to see Thorin on the throne and planned to execute his carefully planned speech of why Lióni should be queen of all dwarves. This dwarf didn't look like Thorin, but the resemblance was uncanny. As he drew nearer, he gasp aloud, causing his family to take note and stop ogling every post, dwarf and the Arkenstone.

Risári moaned, "It cannot be. He is dead."

"Who is that on the throne? He looks like someone I should remember," Lári whispered, but not softly enough, for Dwalin, just behind her laughed.

"That, Lady Lári, is non other than our king," Dwalin supplied loudly and she heard Durin's laughing behind their group and could have sworn an elf also joined in.

She cranked her head around and saw this so call Company laughing at them. Her eyes lifted into the amused face of King Thranduil and a sober expression on Gandalf and of the other elf; she got no reading at all. Eyes turned forward, she tried to guess who this king they claimed really was.

Dóvad recognized who sat on the throne and knew his life hung in a tenuous balance of mercy and truth or lies and deflection and had a brief thought that Thorin betrayed him. It was up to him to decide how to die with honor or fear. That the Company and Thorin kept the identity of Thráin secret and took Fræg told him his secret was exposed. He knew he should have sent a message to Thorin years ago, but really didn't believe the wild tale Fræg spun. He did his best to diffuse the situation and banish the miners that lost family.

Dáin and the Durin's took their places along each side of the throne. Bombur, Bifur and Bofur remained with General Lötun, blocking an easy escape from the causeway they just traversed.

Risári took a step towards Thráin, "My stars, it is you. All these long years; we thought you gone and here you sit; bigger than life itself."

Thráin looked amused and addressed Dóvad. "I see it takes a Longbeard to do your talking. You have much to explain, or should I say, the dwarrowdams of your clan will speak in your stead to clear your name."

That got his desired result when the Durin's laughed and Dóvad threw out a curse.

"My name is honorable and I don't hide behind skirts; an if ye bothered ta see me fighting at Azanulbizar instead of conspiring with the enemy ta save yer neck; ye would know I'm ah loyal dwarf."

Dóvad barely got his angry sentiment spewed forth when Thráin jumped off the throne and pulled his elven sword; raising it to remove his head. In choreographed movement, Dáin, Balin, Dwalin and Lötun followed the lead of their king.

Lióni drew her own sword in an attempt to protect her father. She didn't understand all that was before her eyes, but knew her father insulted another dwarf and that usually resulted in bloodshed. She wasn't looking forward to dying tonight, but would defend her own and noticed her brother also drew his sword. She then saw that their father remained perfectly still, chin raised and sword sheathed.

Gandalf threw a bright light over the throne and cried in an amplified voice: "Cease, all of you. There will be no fighting of dwarves this night." He allowed his staff to return to normal and marched to stand as a buffer between the Durin's and Dóvad.

Thráin retracted and sheathed his sword and sank once again on his throne, making a motion for his lords to likewise lower weapons. "Strong words, Lord Dóvad. I trust you will present evidence of my cowardice?"

"Just testimony of my wagon masters an healer. Their word has always been honest," Dóvad bravely replied. He chose to die with honor and lifted his chin a fraction, eyes boring into the one blue eye of Thráin.

"Yes, your healer…. Fræg is his name. He recanted his version to me. Are you willing to retract anything and be welcomed as a leading lord in my realm?" Thráin spoke evenly, looking for duplicity.

"Nay, my lord. I stand by all I know. The fact Thorin isn't king tells me much about his character for pretending a throne that isn't his just yet."

"It was his throne for fifty years. For insubordination, I hereby sentence you to be held in the dungeon until such time you feel bound to remember who you are dealing with. Take him away," Thráin ordered.

Lötun pushed by Lióni to lay hands on Dóvad when she attempted to push him off the causeway by swinging her sword at his back. A sharp cry of warning from Dwalin had the General spinning out of her way and slapping his Warhammer against her head. He saw the lass crumble, father start cursing and mother trying to catch her indomitable daughter, and for a moment felt sorrow and confusion. He spun on Dóvad. "Yer dams do yer talkin and now yer fightin it seems. Is there not ah dwarrow with ah backbone among yer family?"

With a snarl Tóvad stepped around his father and swung his Warhammer at the mouthy dwarf. The blow was easily blocked and he never got another swing, for the wizard slapped the weapon from his hand and it went flying off the walkway. Laughter was heard beneath the floor.

Gandalf quickly stepped in front of the youth lest Lötun do to the lad same as the weapon and heard Thranduil protesting loudly that he wished to see them bash each other's tiny brains in. "Master Tóvad, I will sort this misunderstanding out. For now, allow King Thráin's General to do his job." He turned to Dóvad. "Lord Dóvad, there is much you don't understand, but you owe King Thráin an apology. He suffered greatly at the hands of Sauron and you could have ended his suffering. I don't blame the king for being angry and let me tell you, Thorin will be the one you face over this. He was king and you failed him. For that, you will stand trial." He softened his tone. "I will not override King Thráin's decree that tonight you be a guest in his holding cells, but I'm sure tomorrow you should be willing to hear what Fræg has to say."

"If ye take him; ye must take me also," Tóvad shouted to this king he didn't know. He thought he had made friends with the lords from Erebor on the trip and held Thorin in awe as he did Dwalin, but looking into their faces, knew their loyalties were to the throne and this unknown king. Shocked by the revelation they only pretended to be his friend, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Very well, young pup, ah night in the dungeon will teach ye not ta talk back to yer elders," Lötun snarled and grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and spun him back the way they came. Elves parted as he marched the youth down the causeway. His soldiers already had Dóvad's weapons and he pushed the boy in their direction. Once disarmed, he led them down a back stair so the army of Jötunheim remained oblivious, but knew word would spread soon and morning couldn't come soon enough.

Thráin motioned the eldest dwarrowdams to step out. "Do you trust me, Lady Risári?"

She knew what he was asking of her. Against her will; her daughter was bartered to the lord of Jötunheim's ranking heir so Longbeards could stay and not be driven into the wilds. She glanced back to where Lári was kneeling on stone cradling Lióni's head in her lap. To her relief, Óin left the Durin lineup and was checking the lass's head. She looked back to one she admired as much as old King Thrór. "I re-pledge my oath of service to your line, King Thráin. I know my son-in-law spoke against you, but he doesn't know you or your family as I do. In time he will become a great ally and friend."

Thráin motioned with his hand and a servant appeared. "Take these dams to Lady Risári's home." At her stunned look he grinned. "I am placing all returning Longbeards to their original quarters. I believe you and Kár lived with his father, Nár."

"Those are wealthy chambers. Are you sure?" Risári thought she misheard and had a revelation. "Thorin told us he never found you. He lied."

"Not directly. First, he followed my orders not to tell anyone from Jötunheim I lived and second, I found him. The tale will be told and retold in the coming days. Please, let my servants see to your needs." He waved a dismissive hand.

"King Thráin is sure you are to be placed in Nár's chambers," Gandalf confirmed when the dam looked like she still harbored doubts. Done with the dwarrowdam, he stood to his full height and said in a commending tone over their heads to Thráin, "I believe you still have business to attend since you are on the throne." His eyes followed the departing dwarves and was glad the youngest was on her feet and supported by Óin and waited for Thranduil and Celeborn to take their spots on either side of him.

Thráin rolled his one eye, "Aye, I suppose now is as good of time as any to be robbed." He held his hand out.

With a broad smile, Thranduil withdrew a contract from the pocket of his black cloak that covered his armor. He stepped up to the throne and slapped the document into Thráin's open palm. "I believe our agreement for my army and silence is twenty barrels of your finest wine. I will remind you, when Thorin and the last ragtag band of misfits arrive safely; that concludes our contract and you will have at my disposal, and additional thirty barrels of wine and five hundred pounds of gold coin."

Thráin sighed and looked to Celeborn. "What is your army and time worth? I realize Thranduil didn't negotiate your services this trip and you'll have to wrangle wine and gold from him."

Celeborn turned to Thranduil. "Half!"

"That's robbery," Thranduil's exaggerated whine had the dwarves around the throne snickering.

Dwalin egged Celeborn on. "Lord Celeborn, King Thranduil needs your help on the last caravan, or the Ringwraiths might destroy what is left of his army. Your warriors fought as bravely as his, so you are entitled to his half."

Thranduil turned a vicious glare upon the offending dwarf. "You still have ninety nine years and fifty weeks to serve in my dungeon."

Gandalf tapped his staff on the floor and the crystal shot beams of light in all directions. "Enough; all of you." He turned to Thranduil, "Half is a fair price; both for this trip and the one to come. And…," he pointed directly at Thranduil, "you will forget this nonsense of tossing Durin's into your dungeon. If I so much as get a whiff that you detained a Durin, I'll pay you a visit you will long remember."

Thranduil snorted in distain, "Once again you side with your pets. I should let Sauron have them. What is stopping me from retreating behind my walls?"

Gandalf smiled at his kingly friend, "Because you always do the right thing in the end."

"Half it is," Thranduil groused and ignored the voice in his head from Celeborn. _'Very wise, you idiot.'_

"We will pay up in the morning," Thráin announced and stood. All the Durin's straightened to attention when the king rose. "There are quarters with Gandalf if you choose to spend the night in the mountain. I'll see you for breakfast in my dining room." Done with his hospitality, Thráin led the procession around the throne and the alternate way to the Durin family wing. Outside hearing, he commanded, "Give me an abbreviated report tonight."

Inside the King's chambers, servants poured ale and Dwalin started talking.

* * *

Left to find their own way; Celeborn opted for a night under the stars and was joined by Thranduil and Gandalf.

"What does my lady say?" Celeborn asked when they were settled before a roaring fire above the horse paddock and each nibbling on Lembas. Their warriors likewise were scattered about the area; enjoying the warm weather and open skies.

"She hasn't answered my hales," Gandalf truthfully replied and saw the silver haired elf scowl into the flames.

"Is she well?" Celeborn asked soberly. He was sure he would know if harm befell his soulmate, but there was a great distance between them.

"You know my powers are clipped by the Valar," Gandalf chastised. "I didn't know about Celebrían until your lady contacted me, so other than try to use _Narya_ , am as helpless as you to her fate, health or whereabouts."

Thranduil drank deeply from his flask of wine and listened. He saw Celeborn pull his own at being reminded of his child and hoped he never lived to see Legolas die or sail with his fëa shattered. As silence fell over the trio, he allowed his mind to wander back to Celebrían's fate.

" _My lord," my steward, Demythel, barged into my personal chambers without waiting for an invite. In fact, I just realized the steward hadn't bothered knocking. I was seated with Legolas in our spacious sitting chamber indulging in a glass of wine at the end of a long day. "The eagles are here."_

 _Legolas jumped to his feet and sat his full glass on a table. He looked back at me, "Are you coming, Adar?"_

" _Usually a visit from the eagles doesn't warrant a proclivity for bad manners," I reminded Demythel._

" _I'm sorry, my lord, but Landroval is here with a message that someone from Imladris fell victim to the orcs."_

 _I was slammed with grief, both from my son and memories of burying my own beloved Ríllas when orcs were through with her. I didn't wait for anyone and flew topside, seeing elves jump aside in a blur._

 _Outside the doors, Landroval perched, ready for flight with talons on each side of the narrow bridge over the fast flowing Forest River._

" _King Thranduil, I regret to bring sorrowful news that Lady Celebrían was attacked in Caradhras Pass and is grievously injured."_

" _When?" I asked as shock permeated my fëa._

" _Lady Galadriel summoned the eagles a week ago. I was told the attack happened while Gwaihir and I were in Taniquetil giving a report on the quiet summer this side of the sea. We arrived back and the youngsters were preparing to act in our stead and go to Imladris when the lady used her powers to contact us. The attack was just before summer solstice and the lady was wishing to be with her parents and children in Caras Galadhon. Lord Elrond was to join her after harvest."_

 _I never heard so many words from an eagle and wondered if they too felt sorrow. "Does Elrond require my assistance?"_

" _I will bring more news when Imladris informs me. For now, the eagles are flying that part of the Misty Mountains being Lord Elrond's eyes while his efforts rest on saving the offspring of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel."_

" _The minute they need me, come. I will assist, even if it means traversing High Pass in dead of winter," I vowed to Landroval._

 _He gave one nod of his gigantic head and took flight; using the drop from the bridge into Forest River to stretch long wings rising just as the tips brushed water._

" _Adar, what are we going to do?" Legolas' question had me focusing on him and grateful once again he was too young to be scarred by his mother's untimely death._

" _We prepare for a year or more on the other side of the mountain."_

"I can hear your thoughts," Celeborn grumbled and Gandalf wondered what put the lords in such a pensive mood.

"Sorry. It was the mention of Celebrían that drew me to reflect upon that time," Thranduil apologized and Gandalf now understood the chilling fëas.

"I think we should celebrate another band of Longbeards returning to the mountain," Gandalf added his advice and puffed his pipe, careful to stay downwind of the sensitive elves.

"Tomorrow should be interesting," Thranduil mused. "I for one am not hanging around while Bard and King Fengel make an appearance. I might finish what Celeborn halted with that witless kingling."

"I agree. We can sort gold and wine in your halls while waiting for Elrond and Círdan," Celeborn's tone was lighter. "Anyone want to take bets on whether or not my uncontrollable wife joined the party?"

"You think that's where she is at?" Gandalf asked with doubt.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed, "I'll bet fifty pounds of the gold I'm receiving soon that she will be warming your bed in Caras Galadhon waiting for you to drag your worthless carcass home."

Celeborn shifted his eyes to Gandalf and waited.

"I don't have gold to wager, but the lady doesn't have to leave the comforts of her home for this little venture. Say we wage a foal from either Shadowfax or Rohirrim to the winner that the lady stays safe in Lothlórien watching over your dear daeriell and living by her mirror like she did last time you came this way!"

"Done. I could use one of Shadowfax's foals in my line. Have him breed with my dam, Ithila, and they will give me a line for show and racing." Celeborn acted like his winning was a done deal.

Gandalf exchanged a look with Thranduil. "You suppose he knows something we don't?"

Thranduil smiled in the firelight. "Are we placing wager on the lass coming also?"

Celeborn's eyes turned cold. "Arwen will not leave the Mallorns." His fëa wrenched in agony before he gained control.

"For events that must pass and the sorrow you will endure, you have my deepest sympathy," Thranduil offered with compassion, mutually in his tone and eyes.

"What are you hiding from me, Celeborn?" Gandalf demanded sternly, pipe pulled from between his lips.

Celeborn turned back to the fire; contemplating not answering. "Nothing I wish to dwell upon."

Gandalf took a puff and didn't bother with an intricate smoke ring while he studied the lord. "I knew when to take Thorin to Erebor by reading the portents of this land. We are readying for the final battle against Sauron and you tell me a lass called Arwen Undómiel plays a crucial role?"

"Yes," Celeborn snapped and he glared at the wizard. "She weds Aragorn, son of Arathorn and dies a mortal death. I thought I was done with that kind of heartache when Lúthien married Beren and suffered his fate. Even Turgon was spared the mortal death of his child."

"The lady's mirror is preparing you, Celeborn. How many get a glimpse of a loved one's death?" Gandalf tried reason and inwardly wept for the sorrow her death would bring Elrond. He suffered and lost so much and his journey wasn't yet done.

"At least when it happens fast, you can morn and heal. This is much worse," the great lord snapped.

Gandalf processed this new information and knew the lady withheld such news on the off chance it didn't come to pass and Arwen would live.

They fell silent for the rest of the night; watching the Vingilot twinkle as it passed the mountain and into the west.

* * *

Dóvad's focused his eyes on a torch lit by a gas line just outside his cell. He lay on his back on a hard chiseled bench covered with a thin pad. The blanket provided pulled to his chin. Shock of seeing Thráin and his outburst that landed him and his son here, was replaced with doubt, first at his handling the Fræg situation and wisdom of crossing any king, but the High King to boot. He wanted answers and not to languish too long away from his dams. He worried they were kicked from the mountain just like his father threatened if the ranking Longbeard lass didn't marry his son. He wasn't sure he wanted to face Lári right now if his actions deprived their children advancement through marriage. Maybe this cell wasn't so bad after all, was his final thought before drifting off.


	31. 31 Thrain's Decree

Thráin motioned for servants to serve them and smiled at the dams who joined their eclectic guests this fine morning to break the fast. He smiled and nodded at Gandalf, who took his customary place at the opposite end of the table. Thráin watched when the wizard pulled King Fengel down to his right and motioned for Lord Celeborn to take his right and decided the length of his long table might just be enough space between them. Bard sat across from Fengel at Gandalf's left hand, trying to ignore tensions between the elves and his personal guest. He was going to ask Thranduil to pay for pawning the insufferable king off on him.

Thranduil smiled with glee at the seating and settled in beside Celeborn; allowing the Durin lords to pile in across from them on Thráin's left side. He also saw the dams, lesser dwarven lords and his own entourage sit at a second table. The food was surprisingly good and he contemplated throwing a complement out to Bombur, but decided the dwarf didn't deserve his praise.

Celeborn looked suspiciously at the food and waited to see if Thranduil fell dead. After the king's third mouthful, he picked up a biscuit slavered with butter and jam. It melted in his mouth and he dug in; thankful he wasn't forced to eat Lembas again.

Fengel looked down the table at the two elves sharing their table. "Lord Celeborn, I am willing to risk my people on the road between here and the Anduin. We will be leaving today and taking the east side of Mirkwood to the shoals above the falls."

"You will stay and fight or my warriors will slaughter your people before they reach Long Lake," Celeborn calmly replied.

Thranduil threw a broad smile at the banal human king.

"Your encounter with that rogue band of orcs wasn't much of a fight," Fengel replied with distain. "I guess you elves need men to fight the real foe."

Taking back his table, Thráin smoothly infused, "We will meet in the conference room for strategic placement of our forces. Dwarves will fight the bulk of Sauron's forces; leaving elves ta fight Ringwraiths an guard the caravan." He looked at Bard and decreed formally, "King Bard, I place you in charge of all men, and King Fengel will take orders from you." He didn't want to be misunderstood, and by the thunderous look Fengel cast in his direction, knew he was clear.

"I protest…," Fengel started and his eyes went wide when Celeborn smoothly stood and pulled his sword.

"Now Celeborn," Gandalf admonished in a placating tone, "we need our human friends alive; at least until Thorin arrives." He smiled in the direction of the now pale king.

Celeborn sheathed his sword, sat and looked into Thráin's one amused eye. "I will be leaving this afternoon with all you owe Thranduil and myself, or my first conflict will be with you."

"Your elves are loading horses with wine as we eat," Thráin stated and saw a blissful expression cross Thranduil's fair features.

Celeborn shook his head and muttered silently to Thranduil, _'Remind me again why I am at a table with a dwarf? They are a treacherous lot that Mithrandir and Elrond trust way too much. I want all the wine tested for poison. I wish Galadriel was here to read their tiny minds for treachery and backstabbing.'_

' _Remember, dear friend, it was you who welcomed Thráin into your kingdom any time he passed that way. It was you who decided to negotiate with dwarves; and it was you who ordered that sop, Fengel, to send supplies.'_

' _A moment of weakness.'_ Celeborn conceded.

* * *

Arwen glanced to her left and then her right. "Did Adar instruct you both as my guardians?"

"No," Elladan was quick to answer.

"What's wrong with your brothers wishing to visit with their little sister?" Elrohir echoed.

"Aren't you supposed to be riding in a wagon pulled by draft horses?" she countered with her own question.

"I'm fine," Elrohir argued. "I've never been sick before and now have a much better understanding of men when they come to us complaining of being ill."

"Well then, tell me of your winter," she prompted; sure Elrohir was hiding from Erestor and Adar.

They filled her in as the horses walked leisurely towards Mirkwood forest. As soon as the ground was dry enough for heavy wagon wheels, Elrond took control and ordered them to break camp. He put Glorfindel in charge of all elven warriors and instructed the Imladris party to lead and Círdan's to bring up the rear, as the mariner did since they formed an integrated group west of the Shire. It was better for Thranduil's guards to interact with elves first and avoid Thorin if at all if possible. Thus, sandwiched between elves, the long caravan crossed Old Ford Bridge and straggled towards the dying forest of Mirkwood.

* * *

Erestor found himself beside Glorfindel; who made a rare request for just them to scout ahead together. Now several miles into the forest, with not a foul servant of Sauron within Glorfindel's considerable senses; he decided now was a good time to divulge his news.

"You know you are the last ellon I would ask to search for trouble with a caravan full of our finest in the ranks?" Glorfindel started with his customary bravado and smile.

"I know from the moment I arrived on eagleback; you, Elrond and the twins are suppressing anguished fëas," Erestor mordantly snapped back. "Can it be our blessed lady has seen death of a loved one this trip?" It was the only explanation for raw hurt he brushed against when they thought nobody was near. "I pray if that's the case, the Valar see me as expendable."

Glorfindel dropped his guarded fëa and Erestor turned wide grey eyes on him when the full force of despair slapped against his body. "Yes, Galadriel foresaw a death, but not this trip. We only face Sauron's annoying Nazgûl and pathetic army this round. Elrond tried to hide it from Celeborn and I, but we dragged it from him on our last trip south when departing Erebor. We have no timeframe….," Glorfindel reached out and laid a concerned hand on his dear friend's shoulder; both for comfort in his next words and to keep him in the saddle if need be. "Galadriel and Elrond have both visioned our beloved Arwen dying."

Erestor felt his world end and his fëa screamed an agonizing, wretched howl that was eagerly absorbed by the dying trees and harmonized with their own anguish. Outwardly, his face showed no sign he just received news that would change his life. A single tear rolled down his left cheek. "Where?" he croaked.

"Under the Mallorns," Glorfindel quietly supplied.

"Then Galadriel is right to remove our elfling. We will keep her in the north and prepare a ship." Erestor's mind shifted to all that needed to be done for her to sail. That she would stay, never entered his head.

"Galadriel nixed that idea. Arwen's journey must continue; because it is she who holds the key to defeating Sauron and bringing peace to these bloodstained lands."

"And Elrond?" Erestor turned stormy eyes onto his friend at the news they were powerless to stop this repelling event.

"Will try and circumvent fate. Do you expect any less?"

"I would gladly stay and fight Sauron until the end of the world if it meant Arwen lives," Erestor vowed.

"It is worse." Glorfindel prepared himself to impart the worst part of his message.

"The only thing worse is if she takes her brothers with her." Erestor prayed he was long dead before losing any of Elrond's children.

"She dies as Lúthien," Glorfindel whispered, more to himself, but knew his voice was loud enough.

"Who is this cur that destroys our Arwen Undómiel?" Erestor snapped between clenched jaws and felt more tears streak his face. "I will kill him myself."

"Then you must kill the child she just named Elessar."

Erestor stopped his horse with a silent command. The seneschals stared at one another for a long moment. "Who is this child?" Erestor finally asked after searching his considerable memory of past Dúnedain Chieftains. "What makes him the elfstone?" He took a deep breath trying in vain to bring his troubled fëa back to normal. It throbbed like a stubbed toe.

"Elrond's state was too distraught when he stormed from the tent three days ago, but I clearly read his mind. In legend; the elfstone defeats Sauron and unites the kingdoms. Our killer is none other than Aragorn II."

Erestor looked at Glorfindel's rare sober expression. "Is there nothing we can do?"

"Hope his eyes are taken by a human lass," Glorfindel replied.

"What about Bard's daughters?" Erestor felt a glimmer of hope. "They are princesses. We can suggest to Elrond a betrothal." He could see Glorfindel considering his proposal and finally the Balrog slayer shrugged.

"Run it by Elrond."

* * *

Lióni woke in a strange bed of great comfort; her headache gone. She gingerly touched the lump made by the Warhammer and pulled away quickly when it screamed a loud protest upon being touched. She stood and let a short dizzy spell pass before dressing and foggily remembered her mother and grandmother readying her for bed and drinking the pain drought Óin ordered delivered. She opened the door to hear voices and joined the elder dams of her household.

Lári caught a movement from the corner of her eye. "How's your head?"

"A herd of Oliphants is marching to the sea through my ears, but I'll live," Lióni snippily answered.

"Then eat fast, lass. We are to be with the king in a few minutes when he addresses our returning caravan."

Lióni took a piece of warm bread slathered with butter and honey and it melted in her mouth. As she rapidly ate; she listened to her mother and grandmother talking to a short, white haired dwarf she was sure she saw on the Dias and to the right of the king, so he must hold great power.

"Lord Balin, at least tell me when my husband and son will be brought before the king again?" Lári wasn't getting anyplace with her demands to what she was learning was a very high ranking dwarf.

"I personally will talk with Lord Dóvad after the king addresses your caravan. You will have a better understanding as to the situation then." The smiling dwarf looked at Lióni. "She is a pretty lass. How did she and Thorin receive each other?"

"I can speak for myself." Lióni slammed her tankard of fresh milk on the table, done with her light repast. Standing, she went to stand in front of the dwarf and was satisfied she looked him straight in the eye. "Ever since the dwarves, who claim to be Durin's, came to Jötunheim, I've been scrutinized like a prized boar. I don't know who you are, but if I have to go down the line of Durin's, telling each of you, I'll not be sold, forced or bartered to one of your studs, just because you think my blood is pure enough, you have another think coming." Done with her rant, she waited for someone to say something.

"Apologize to Lord Balin," Risári angrily cried and then turned to the grinning lord. "Lord Balin, please forgive her bad manners. I assure you, if her grandfather, Kár, survived Azanulbizar, he would have taken his Warhammer to Dóvad for indulging the lass."

"I take it she and Thorin were a match then!" Balin laughingly retorted. "He hasn't looked twice at those who threw themselves at him. He also hates fathers that try and push him into a marriage with their daughters. I'll tell the king that this one is refreshing."

"I wouldn't hold out hope Dóvad will agree to a match after Thorin's father tossed him in your dungeon late last night," Lári replied; stunned a Durin would still consider a marriage with their family.

Balin waived his hand dismissively. "Unless war breaks out between Erebor and Jötunheim, I wouldn't discount this lass." He looked around. "Shall we?" The guard at the door jumped to swing it open and the dams saw many more in the hallway providing escort; for them or Balin they weren't sure.

Balin skirted the growing crowd from Jötunheim and now mixed with Iron Hills dwarves. News of the king's identity was strictly forbidden among those already in the mountain and guards were interspersed throughout gathering clutches to insure nobody divulged anything.

The crowd silenced when they saw the dams of Dóvad's house led up a set of stairs to a balcony overlooking them. They were sure Dóvad and Tóvad would be presented with the king and hoped King Thorin was healed from his injuries, or so were conversations that circulated among the dwarves on the main floor.

Nori, Ori, Bofur, Bifur and Bombur pressed through bodies; listening and insuring the guards did their duty. Whenever they encountered such a warrior in the crowd; they would wink and nod and move on. Nobody wanted a bad report getting back to the king, or worse, Dáin Ironfoot.

The large doors swung open and several tall beings entered. The dams of Dóvad's house spotted Gandalf, two elves that were with him the night before at the throne, more elves, men and a band of dwarves. Bodies parted for them and they quickly found places on the stairs where they could oversee the entire congregation of dwarves. One dwarf hurried up the stairs and disappeared through a doorway at the back of the balcony.

Thráin checked his diadem and robes one last time and turned when greetings were thrown out, informing him his last invited guests arrived. He turned and greeted Glóin with a hug, head butt and joke about him almost missing the show.

"Aye, we pushed through the night, dodging orcs until a band of elves spotted us and gave escort. What are Thranduil and Celeborn doing here?" Glóin asked; desperately trying to glean the political situation.

"They are lending their warriors until all dwarves are home," Balin informed him. He looked at Thráin. "Nori signaled we have a go."

"Go warm the crowd up and give me an introduction without disclosing who I am," Thráin instructed.

He stood just out of sight alone and proudly watched the line of Durin's take the balcony.

Nori joined his fellow Durin's and they lined up for all to see them. Cheering broke out and finally Balin raised his hands for silence.

"For those of you who don't know me; I am Lord Balin, Personal Assistant and right hand of the king; First Regent of Erebor and Lord of Moria. And if that didn't tip ye off; I'm also a Durin." He waited for laughter to die down. "Listen closely. As I say their names, they will step out and I'll introduce them. First is Lord Dáin Ironfoot."

Dáin stepped out and waived. He stood to Balin's left, showing the newcomers that he outranked the king's personal adjutant.

Balin continued, "He is acting Heir Apparent until such time, Crown Prince, Thorin Oakenshield produces a son. Then he will return to the Iron Hills where he is regent. Next is Thorin Stonehelm."

Thorin stepped up to the left of his father and nodded to the crowd.

"Thorin Stonehelm is Dáin Ironfoot's heir until Thorin Oakenshield has a son."

Thorin's chest swelled with pride at being labeled so high on the list of possible kings. He never really thought of his position until Balin described it just now. He didn't bother to listen to Balin's short accolades about him; lost in his newfound understanding on just how close to the throne he really was. Now his forced education made sense.

"Next is Lord Dwalin."

Dwalin stepped to Balin's right and glowered at those below.

The crowd didn't know their guide was so highly ranked among the Durin's and Balin had to wait until the quiet murmur of surprise died down.

"Lord Dwalin is my younger brother and holds Lord Nár's position as Captain of the Guard and Supreme General over all armies. He answers to only a handful of dwarves."

There was another stir among the warriors of Jötunheim, that didn't know he outranked their highest general and Lord Dóvad. They knew he was a mighty warrior, but not once did Thorin or the other's refer to him as General.

"There are several Durin's missing numbered in the highest rankings. That would be Thorin's nephews, Fili and Kili and Lord Gróin. They will be here soon and introduced on this balcony before snow flies. Next in rank is Lord Óin, master healer for Erebor."

Óin, trumpet in his ear, waiting for his signal, stepped beside Dwalin, indicating a lesser ranked Durin.

One by one the rest were introduced and lined up beside Óin.

"Lastly, we have three more members of the famed Company that retook Erebor. May I present, lords Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. They are accorded rank of the lesser Durin's." Done with his introductions, he gave a moment's pause so everyone could memorize the faces before them. "And now your king; a dwarf that needs no introduction." He led a round of applause as Thráin stepped between him and Dáin to the thundering below.

He smirked as clapping slowly dwindled down and saw confused looks on the faces of the new arrivals. "What, you thought Thorin was your king?" he roared. "Thorin Oakenshield is your Crown Prince. I know Dáin was introduced as my heir, but he is designated such only if Thorin fails to produce an heir. If that be the case, the line will go to Dáin Ironfoot." He paused and looked the crowd over for overt signs of rebellion.

Balin leaned over and whispered, "Should we bring Fræg out now?"

Thráin sighed and shook his head. In a raised voice, he continued, "I know you were told I was at Dol Guldur. That is correct; I was."

The crescendo forced him to stop and wait once more. Shouts of traitor were clearly heard and he hoped Dáin's faith in his warriors was valid or they wouldn't stand a chance with only Gandalf for protection. He raised a hand and waited for the cavern to once again grow silent. "For fifty years I was held captive of the Necromancer, also known as Sauron. With the help of Gandalf," he pointed to where the wizard stood at the head of the stairs, "I escaped and made my way to Lothlórien, where I was graciously cared for by Lord Celeborn of the elves and his family." Once again, Thráin pointed to an elf this time. "I was reunited with my son after the Battle of Five Armies. Now; let me introduce you to our new king of Dale; King Bard."

Bard stepped forward on the stairs and saw eyes look in his direction. He was glad he decided to keep his children home today and didn't like what he saw in the faces of the returning dwarves.

"And of course, our neighbor and friend, King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm." Thráin pointed to Thranduil, who looked down at the dwarves from his place beside Gandalf and smirked.

"And one final speech before you are taken to your chambers. Lord Fræg has something he wishes to tell you."

The warriors guarding Fræg pushed him to stand beside their king. Fræg looked worried, swallowed hard and began. "Years ago when survivors of ah caravan return ta Jötunheim, I was ordered by Lord Dóvad ta find answers in the portents. Hard as I tried, nothing came. In desperation, I mixed ah draught of peyot root from plants found in the gullies on the east side of the Red Mountains. I traded medical supplies ta an Easterling I met in private. I knew it was risky, but everyone wanted ta know the fate of dwarves taken by Ringwraith's, because it was so abnormal. If it had been anything except them; I wouldn't have been pressed for answers. In my stupor, I saw King Thráin's face an ah crown on his head. I also saw the location an knew from my journey with the army ta Azanulbizar, the tall towers of that evil city must be his new kingdom. My mind put the pieces together falsely an my portent was skewered. Instead of seeing the king on the throne of Erebor, my drugged conscious placed him in the wrong realm. Then ta make matters worse for me an my family, I lied, figuring no Durin would ever be the wiser. In my shame, I slandered the name an honor of King Thráin. For you see, I was given ah portent an if I had just waited ah little longer, would have seen him in shackles an we might have gotten word ta Thorin Oakenshield ta mount ah rescue. When uprisings from the Longbeards threatened Jötunheim over my lies; Lord Dóvad ordered the families of those taken ta leave an find work elsewhere, so he could restore peace. As long as they lived in Jötunheim; they kept everyone stirred up against the Durin's. On my advice, Lord Dóvad acted. I take full responsibility."

"Tell what happened because of your lies," Dwalin snarled and reached around Balin to slug Fræg in the shoulder.

Rubbing his aching shoulder and numb arm, Fræg quickly acquiesced before Lord Dáin felt the need to injure his other side. "Because of me, insurrection against King Thráin occurred right here in this mountain. The miners relocated ta the Iron Hills an when they learned King Thráin lived, journeyed with Lord Dáin an plotted ta kill our traitor king. One of the youths who left with the miner's had ah father that was ah guard on the caravan the Ringwraith's took. He attempted ta kill the king an was himself struck down. The miners then tried ta attack the king directly an are still in the dungeon awaiting their fate. I have spread word daily of my deception an beg everyone ta believe me. I don't stand here lightly confessing my crimes. An then, before the throne, I lied yet again; this time directly ta King Thráin's face." Tears started rolling down his cheeks and he looked into King Thráin's one eye. "Please forgive me."

Thráin considered the dwarf's plea. It was the first time he encountered him since he appeared before his throne months before. "Bring the prisoners, except Dóvad and his spawn."

Hearing their lord was in the dungeons of Erebor had the crowd murmuring again.

Thranduil was enjoying this immensely and leaned over to speak softly to Gandalf. "I could offer my dungeon for Dóvad and his rat."

"If Thráin gets attacked again, I'll bring them to you personally," Gandalf offered and then had an inspiration. He strode to tower over the dwarves on the balcony. He tapped the end of his staff and a white light shot across the room. He bellowed down to the dwarves, "If one hair on Thráin's head is harmed, Lord Dóvad will be held responsible, no matter who commits the act. He will be sentenced to spend one hundred years in King Thranduil's dungeon. I charge every one of you to ensure your king remains healthy. Oh, and that offer is for any Durin or member of the Company coming to harm. I expect all of you to settle into the mountain and make this community as when King Thrór ruled these halls." Done, he patted Thráin's shoulder and retook his place on the stairs.

Warriors with spears made a space directly below the balcony and held the crowd back. The miners were escorted before the king and saw those from Jötunheim staring at them.

"Look up here," Thráin commanded. "I have reached a decision on your doom. All of you will be barred forever from Erebor. You will return to Jötunheim and remain there for the remainder of your days. You will not be allowed to travel and must be inside the mountain when the doors close at night." He saw relief on the faces of those that were sure an execution was in their future. He turned to Fræg. "You too are under the doom of the miners. You will live the rest of your life in the confines of Jötunheim and be stripped of the title Lord. You will be known only as Master Fræg and your offspring will be barred from any titles as well. You will leave the mountain today." Done, he beckoned Gandalf, the men and elves to join him. "I believe I've kept you from breakfast long enough."

Everyone below watched the Durin's and their companies depart through a door at the back of the balcony.

The dams of Dóvad were escorted back to their chambers, where soon the personal effects from their wagon arrived.

* * *

Elessar looked around at the dank forest where light was as absent as living things. He was glad to be traveling with a large group and knew ada wouldn't let orcs or trolls near them. He still spent his days with young dwarves and found a friend in a youth called Gimli. From the moment they were introduced at Imladris, they felt a kinship and became inseparable.

"I can hardly wait ta see da," Gimli spouted out of the blue and even at his young years, Elessar picked up the undertones he missed his father.

"The only adar I've known is Lord Elrond," he replied and swung his sword at a branch and smiled when it sliced through, showing his arm was improving.

"I thought he was yer father?" Gimli looked curiously at his new friend. "Ya refer ta the twins as yer brothers an know the Sindar term for father an ye have called him adar. I just figured Lord Elrond and yer mother were wed. He treats her like ah wife."

"How so?" Elessar's voice rose several pitches.

"He escorts her when they are together for one," Gimli replied. "An my mother said he laughs when he talks with her, so they must be in love. An he hasn't produced another wife, has he?"

Elessar thought about the twin's mother and what little he knew. He realized he never gave their mother much thought and wondered who she was among the statues and paintings. "I will ask adar if he is married to mother, but they don't share a bed."

Gimli snorted in distain, "What do ya really know about the private matters of elves?"

"Look, there are the twins," Elessar shouted and pointed to a spot in the trees where they were mounted on their horses and watching the caravan slowly roll past. What the lads didn't know was Elrohir's strength was waning and he waited for the wagon with a bed prepared for him to roll past.

Elessar and Gimli ran to the horses. "Can we ride?" he asked Elladan.

Elladan glanced to his brother, who nodded and pulled the boy up before him and Elrohir likewise settled the smaller, stockier form of the dwarf before him. They urged their mounts into a run and had the boys laughing as they dodged trees until at the head of the line again.

Elessar glanced up over his shoulder. "El, I have a question."

Elladan smiled down at him, "Only one?"

"Is adar married to my mother?"

' _What brought that on?'_ Elrohir questioned into his brother's mind.

"No, they are not married. Why do you ask?" Elladan threw down at the boy.

"Well, Gimli thought they were, and I wasn't sure."

"My ma says they look married," Gimli defended.

"Our adar is already married, so cannot take another wife," Elrohir supplied to his rider.

"Where is his wife then?" Elessar asked. "Or is she like your sister; living in another kingdom?"

"Yes, she lives in another kingdom," Elladan stated sadly.

"How come nobody ever told me about her?" Elessar asked; suddenly not sure how much he really knew about the elves he lived with.

"In time you will be told everything," Elladan stated.

"Now's as good as time as any," Elessar reasoned. "So, you know my mother and I want to know all about yours."

"Well, you do know she is the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel?" Elladan started with the obvious.

"Yes, but nobody ever talks about her. I thought she must be dead and everyone is sad," Elessar reasoned.

"We are sad, but she isn't dead. She sailed to the west to live in Aman."

"But why? Doesn't she love you guys anymore?" Elessar wasn't sure he wanted to hear more if it hurt his brothers.

The twin's fëas reflected their dismay at his ignorant youthful question and before Elladan could formulate a reply, Elrond was on his left, with Glorfindel and Erestor flanking his right.

' _Is giving rides to boys taxing your fëas?'_ Elrond asked into his son's minds.

' _Elessar is asking about Naneth,'_ Elrohir supplied.

' _He wants to know if you and Gilraen are married,'_ Elladan added with a smirk at his father. They heard Erestor and Glorfindel laughing in their minds.

' _Let me have the boy,'_ Elrond demanded.

Without a word Elessar found himself tossed into the air effortlessly and caught by Elrond. "My son, it is time we had a little talk."

"Elladan, take Gimli back to his group," Elrohir requested. He looked at Erestor. "You are right; I'm not well enough to ride all day." He handed the youth off and rode quickly down the line until at the wagons of elves with Erestor at his side.

Erestor inspected the bed first to make sure nothing heavy shifted and landed on the narrow mattress and motioned Elrohir to climb in the back. "Do you need me to stay with you?"

"For a moment," Elrohir admitted as he lay back on soft mattress and blankets. "Why is Elessar asking about Naneth?"

Erestor made himself comfortable and mentally told his horse to stay close. "He is growing up and starting to observe his surroundings."

"That, and Gimli put the questions in his mind," Elrohir admitted and closed his eyes.

Erestor reached over and helped him slip into sleep with gentle fingers on his forehead. He made himself comfortable on the back of the wagon, legs dangling over the back and watched over his charge; searching for signs of discomfort Elrohir could mask while awake. He looked up, searching for sky through a canopy made of large trees. Finding not a ray of sunlight breaking through the boughs, he hoped Elrond didn't need his assistance explaining why Gilraen would never wed him. He hoped when they broke through the far side and sun once again bathed everyone and the mountain loomed before them, the boy would be too busy to ask Elrond questions that troubled his aching fëa and caused such an intense longing to sail, everyone near could feel.


	32. 32 Will Not and Do Not

Thorin nodded politely to the elven twin and Lord Erestor when they trotted past his location on large warhorses to elven wagons lumbering at the rear of the caravan and he had a good idea it was the sick twin looking to lie down. His eyes spotted the other twin dropping Gimli to the ground, where the youth promptly darted away before his mother had need of him. He was riding his new stallion he named Kibil and beside him, Dis, rode their father's stallion.

Dis cast an admiring glance at his armor. "I haven't seen so much gold since the Durin's parted with what they wore so we could eat. I used to think father the handsomest dwarf ever when he dressed for war or sparred other warriors in the ring. Slowly I forgot we were ever that wealthy," she ended sadly.

"My first set was commissioned by father. It was tiny and I saw it in the armory; along with plainer sets for dwarflings."

"Will you keep it for your son?" She stared intently, looking for a sign he was actually considering matrimony with one of the gathering lass's.

"Did I tell you, Azie is expecting?" he deflected. "I'll gift it to Dáin. I'm sure it will be another son sired."

Dis felt a pang her boys were too old and big for it and they raised, like her; in poverty and in a foreign land. "You told me the elf said Azie is expecting. Tell me about the lasses already in the mountain seeking your charms and don't change the subject."

He snorted in distain. "Three came from the Iron Hills. Lord Pýirt brought his daughter. And Lord Rádsvid has a daughter."

"Isn't he a distant cousin?" Dis remembered his name being cursed by Thorin for not helping retake the mountain and a tantrum about him being related through Dori's father's line.

Thorin grunted. "The Ri's third cousin. He is on the council of elders in the Iron Mountains. His lass was marrying age ten years ago. Dori mentioned Rádsvid was hoping to catch a Durin. Then Lord Lofar's daughter just reached her majority while at the mountain the day before I went east."

"Okay, you gave names, Thorin. I want to know them. What do they look like? Will they fit in with the Durin dams?"

"I will leave the pecking order of dams to you and those who flourished under great grandmother, Ziari."

"How old were you when she died?" Dis had no memories of the old dwarrowdam; just stories of her ruling the dams while Thrór ruled the mountain.

"You were a baby when she went to bed one night and didn't wake. That was the largest funeral I ever attended. Grór brought the family from the Iron Hills and we partied for a week. I remember father carrying you around and showing you off. He was as proud as if you were born a son."

"Back to the lasses," she prompted.

"If I must. The first is Lord Pýirt's brat. I say that because she is whiny. When I was first introduced, she complained about the trip and elves and cold. That was before I got her name. She has pale yellow hair. Like Fili's only lighter and blue eyes. She is thin, like you and mother were at that age. I think her name is Byrta. I hope father has better sense than select her, or I'll run away to Mordor."

Dis laughed, but had a mental picture. "Does it get better?"

Lord Rádsvid's daughter makes three of you. Shade in the summer and heat in the winter. She is ginger with pudgy cheeks and toes and everything in between. She is about the size of Bombur, without his warm personality. I had the misfortune of sitting beside her during a feast to welcome the Iron Hill lords and their families. She kept leaning her assets on my arm trying to waken me. I finally muttered that I shoed horses that liked to lean on me and was used to it. Needless to say, she took offense and stated loudly she was a sturdy lass and would improve the Durin stock with robust sons. Dáin and father laughed heartily at my discomfort. I told father, I wasn't marrying a cow and she belonged in the barn with the rest of the heifers. Her father challenged me to a fight and when I stood to comply, father ordered us both to sit down."

"I'm looking forward to meeting all of them," Dis snickered.

"The most tolerable of the lot was Lord Lorfar's dwarfling. She was so shy, she wouldn't look me in the eye when introduced and Lofar made excuses of her being timid but healthy. He actually said in front of the lass she wouldn't have to live with me; just make a few babies to carry on the line and stay out of my way. I felt sorry for her." He remembered the rest. "She has non-descript brown hair and eyes. Her build is slightly stocky, but pleasant. She is on my list of maybe."

Dis absorbed this new tidbit and would watch them together and judge for herself. "Well, you've had the three coming from Ered Luin shoved at you for years. What do you think of them?"

Thorin mock shuddered and grinned at her. "Asutri's daughter, Asli, is spoiled. She is determined to wed any Durin, even a Ri if she can't land me or the boys. I told Fili and Kili to stay away from her."

"Oh you did?" Dis didn't know that and had hopes Asli would catch Fili's eye. "Maybe you should have mentioned that little fact. I told Asli, I would set her up with Fili."

Thorin's eyes widened. "I'll keep that in mind. I don't want her."

"Are you resigned to Gerti? She is closest to your age?"

Thorin sighed. "If I must, but father might think her too old to bear the number of dwarflings he thinks I need."

"What about Yurna? Her black hair and blue eyes are a match for you." She was the third traveling from Ered Luin and granddaughter of a lesser lord who fled Smaug and traveled with their father until settling in the Blue Mountains.

"Again, she is very young and I think she has her heart set on Kili."

Dis shook her head sadly. "That boy can get into more trouble. I doubt he will marry and settle down for a hundred years now."

"Lord Elrond told me he had a prognostication about Kili. He said the lad will travel these lands for a long time. I would keep him with me for a few years, but he is restless now. I'll ask father if a place for him can be arranged. Father wouldn't assign him a position, but at the time it was because of the elf."

"Enough heart wrenching detail. What about that lass from the White Mountains, Arli?"

"In her mind, we are already betrothed." Thorin looked disgusted. "I hope father doesn't have fond memories from the White Mountains. That one is capable of fooling him."

"But not you?"

"At first, I was intrigued she knew so much about our family. It is memorized and when I try and expound on them, she changes the subject to dwarrowdam prattle. Balin taught Dwalin and me when to pay attention to dams and when to just nod."

Dis laughed and several dwarves trailing the lead ponies looked surprised. Since her fading bond, she rarely smiled and never laughed. "I miss them so much." She sobered. "I suppose one will be chosen for Dwalin?"

Thorin shifted his eyes to her face while keeping his face pointed to the horses of elves, far enough ahead for them to have a private conversation. "Yes."

"I don't know why I'm going back to the mountain," she suddenly sounded angry. "With Fili taking over as ranking lord of Ered Luin and Kili in and out, I'll ask father to allow me to return."

"Do you feel Dwili at all now?"

"His sudden intrusion into her private pain caused her to gasp. "That is not a matter I'll discuss with a dwarrow, even you. Who told on me?" She confided in Meeli, Dwin and Dioari, the only dams to escape Smaug's wrath from the House of Durin. Those three raised her and imparted all they could remember of her mother, grandmother and the older dams who perished. Usually dams kept problems of that nature hidden from dwarrows and their shame.

"It doesn't matter how I learned. I will tell you this; it isn't secret and all Durin's are aware you are fading."

"My shame is on display," she whimpered causing Thorin to reach over and wrap a comforting arm across her shoulders for a brief moment. He pulled away when she wiped her eyes and compressed her trembling lips.

"Nay, sister. Father knows and it grieves him. He feels our mother with him to this day and it was their bond that helped him all those long, lonely years while captive."

"I feel like a virgin again," she whispered. "I long to feel arms on a cold night. For twenty years, Dwili was with me after I learned of his death. I started dreaming of him in the Halls of Waiting. He kept telling me he had to go. I would ask where and he would reply that Aulë chose him for a task and I couldn't follow. I dreamed that same dream off and on for a year. Each time, I would wake crying and reaching for him. That's when the bond started fading. After a year, I never had the dream again and Dwili was gone. It is the loneliest feeling ever. It took years, but my body forgot that of a dwarrow."

"The elves tell of fading. But with them, it is much worse. If a mate fades, they are lost forever and the survivor either sails or fades also." Thorin was shaken. "You aren't going to die, are you?"

"I don't think so. First, Dwili was just not part of me and then his bond started pulling away. I haven't felt him for years and as a result, I don't think about him like a bonded wife should."

"Your thoughts are of another?" Thorin wisely affirmed.

Her cheeks flamed and he smiled.

"I am not the one being grilled," she reminded him. "Did any lass come from Jötunheim?" she quickly turned the tide of questioning.

A lithe lass with light brown tresses that hinted of gold when in the sun and the bluest eyes, came to his mind. "There is one. She has spirit and fancies herself a warrior lass. She is the only one fighting a marriage, with anyone, and the title Durin doesn't faze her."

"Let me guess," Dis interrupted. "She is built like a warrior, stout with red hair and blue eyes and can beat any dwarrow. Thus with her accomplishments, she doesn't need to marry and become chattel to a dwarrow, let alone a prince."

Thorin grinned at her, his face losing age. "That would be too easy. Even you, a princess, didn't have an option to remain unwed. Lasses are too valuable for the dwarflings they produce. No, this lass isn't ready to settle down and growing up on stories of her mother wedding so the Longbeard clan wasn't kicked from the mountain left more than a passing amount of distain, and that she must wed a lord and not beneath her station. She is Lord Nár's great granddaughter and daughter of the ranking lord."

"I didn't know that line produced a female beyond Lári," Dis commented.

"You got part of her appearance and mannerisms correct. She has blue eyes and can outfight most novice warriors. She has light brown hair and is skinny like you were."

"Having two boys did fill me out some; although I've lost most of it on this trip," Dis retorted, slightly vain about her slimming figure which still possessed full breasts and a narrow waist. "It's these padded male threads we are forced to wear in public that makes me look like a well fed miner."

"Part of the plan, Sister. You are dressed down for your safety. You heard about the black mark against all dams in this caravan?"

"Garad told all everyone in both parties of the mark insuring reaching the mountain alive. He also said the mark on your head has tripled. Now you have to be extra careful."

"I'm not concerned with my head. I don't plan on losing any dams to witless orcs while I'm in charge," Thorin reinforced. He wondered how Gandalf was fairing with the Longbeards from Jötunheim and if they were at the mountain and was sorry to miss his father's first meeting with Fræg. He had his own score to settle for the idiot healer causing him harm.

A silence settled between Dis and Thorin and she contemplated which lass was best suited for her brother. She would do everything in her power to make sure he married for more than expectations of their father. She would have a dam he wanted to spend time with and would grow to love.

* * *

At the same time a very different conversation was taking place between Elrond and Elessar. "What exactly do you wish to know about Lady Celebrían?"

Elessar smirked, "Was she as beautiful as Lady Galadriel."

Elrond grinned. "Never tell Lord Celeborn, but his daughter shines brighter than her naneth ever dreamed. You've seen paintings of my wife and know I speak truth."

"I'm not sure which elleth on your walls is her," Elessar admitted. "You have quite a few different ones."

"You know the painting in my bedchamber of the beautiful elleth with silver hair?" Elrond asked and saw Glorfindel move his horse close and they rode at the head of the column with space to have a private talk; although Elrond was sure Galadriel, riding beside Arwen just behind knew of his impending conversation and would eavesdrop.

"The one without much clothing?" Elessar guessed and his face flushed. He liked to sneak into ada's room and stare at the risqué painting and hoped nobody ever caught him.

Elrond grinned broadly and winked at Glorfindel, who was silently laughing in his mind.

"Yes, that's the one and is Celebrían. I painted from memory what she was wearing and expression when imparting the most important news of my life. It was the morning she confirmed she was carrying Elladan and Elrohir." He glanced at his riding companion and knew Glorfindel was remembering that day as well, for he spoke in his mind.

' _Celebrían couldn't hide her excitement from me. She glowed and you captured the moment perfectly.'_

' _Thank you for not ever telling Erestor when you figured it out. I'm sure he would have remained clueless until Celebrían's stomach was round as a melon and then would have inquired if she was hiding something.'_

Glorfindel laughed softly.

Elrond spoke aloud to the boy. "Celebrían and I are mated for life and therefore I will never marry again."

"What exactly does mate mean?" Elessar didn't want to appear ignorant, but really didn't know all that was involved with mating. "Is it like when the dog mated and had puppies?"

Glorfindel burst out laughing, "We thought that's what it meant when Celebrían grew large as a wine barrel."

"Mate means marriage and commitment," Elrond patiently explained, throwing an exasperated glare to his right. "Lady Celebrían became my intended mate fifteen hundred years before we exchanged vows. You see, I had a big war to fight before willing to settle down and become an adar. I didn't want to leave abandoned elflings like my brother and I when our parents left us right before the War of the Wrath. Four hundred years ago, she sailed to the undying lands in the west." His mind quickly corrected; 'Four hundred thirty two years, two months and fifteen days and," he glanced at the faithless sky; 'five and a half hours give or take.'

"Why did she sail, adar?" Elessar asked in a mature voice.

"She went to visit her parents in Lothlórien and was attacked by orcs; very similar to when your parents were attacked and your father killed. They injured her gravely; even more than I was able to heal. She had to sail or die." Elrond let memories of that painful time flood over him. He could hear songs change from happy to somber to help sooth troubled thoughts of their lord. His subconscious picked up they were singing the songs when she was carried to the sea. Glorfindel's hand rested on his right shoulder and warmth flowed into his cold fëa. He gratefully nodded at the one who stood by his side since long before he ever met his wife.

"And you really can't marry again?"

He let the youthful question pull him from dark thoughts. "No; elves only marry once; nor do I ever wish to remarry."

"So marrying mother is out of the question?" Elessar had to hear a firm refusal because he really wanted his mother to marry his adar.

"Your naneth's heart is also taken. She loved your father very much and still grieves his loss."

"Gimli misses his father, but I have no memories of mine," Elessar replied quietly.

"I can't help with that," Elrond softly told him. "I will always be your adar and you will be my iôn until you die."

"Tell me more about Lady Celebrían," the boy requested.

"One story and maybe tonight you can ask Lady Galadriel to tell a tale of Celebrían when she was your age. Anything particular you wish to know about my wife?"

Elessar thought what he wanted to know. He remembered seeing several dwarves kissing, even though the women wore beards and thought it sick. He never saw his adar kissing his mother. He remembered last time he saw the painting in Adar's bedchamber what it would be like to kiss her. "Your first kiss. Tell me a story of your first kiss."

Elrond smiled down at the top of Elessar's head. "You want to know how it's done? Is there a girl you want to kiss? Maybe a dwarven lass?" He laughed when Elessar vehemently voiced his denial.

"I never see elves kissing. Is it something you even do?"

"Yes, elves, like men and dwarves find pleasure in kissing the one we love. Elves are usually more discrete than men or dwarves. It is done in privacy so we don't intrude into the fëas of those nearby. I was building Imladris during the last half of the second age. An ill-timed trip to the Havens took me from my summer of laying foundations. It was there I met Celeborn and Galadriel's only child, Celebrían. She was the fairest in the land and I fell under her spell when my eyes first saw her." He leaned over and whispered loudly in Elessar's ear, "Do you know who Celebrían was with when first I laid eyes on her?"

Elessar shook his head.

"Glorfindel was taking her to a dancing area."

"You took her from Glorfy?" Elessar quickly looked to his right and saw Glorfindel playing the part of an injured elf.

"He cruelly ripped my heart out when using all his charms to woo the lovely Celebrían from my side," Glorfindel embellished.

"Don't believe a word he says," Elrond stated. "Glorfindel's intended is waiting for him across the sea, although I don't know why."

"Anyway, I was invited by Celebrían that night at a feast to join her and her parents for breakfast. Celeborn and his family always stayed with Lord Círdan when they went to Mithlond. Of late, ellon took to invading the palace and searching for Celebrían and Celeborn couldn't threaten enough to keep them away. I was the first she showed interest in and Lord Celeborn quickly told her I was dining with the king in the morning.

Glorfindel looked interested. "I didn't know Celeborn said that to you."

Elrond rolled his eyes, "Gil-galad came to my rescue with, 'I'm inviting myself also, Celeborn.' Next thing I knew, all at our table invited themselves to Celeborn's chambers to break the fast. I was the only one oblivious to their reasoning. They were quite hoping Celebrían and I would find fëas yearning and all were entertained by Celeborn's behavior."

"Did your fëas spark and that's when you kissed her?" Elessar asked.

"Yes and no. Fëas did spark and I didn't kiss her for several hundred years."

"Erak says elves are slow in matters of the heart. How many hundreds of years?"

"I couldn't stay away from Celebrían for more than a few decades at a time; although it was eighty years between our first and second visit. Celeborn was the main reason. After that, every twenty years or so, either she or I would find a reason to visit; either in Lothlórien or Imladris. It was April seventeenth, Second Age year two thousand, four hundred and sixty one at break of dawn when our lips first met." Elrond looked back through the centuries until it seemed as if that morning.

"Yes, Elrond kissed Celebrían goodbye on the landing in front of all the elves," Glorfindel picked up the story, seeing his friend reliving the memory. "Celeborn, Galadriel and Celebrían stayed the winter and were leaving for the Havens that warm spring morning. Elrond and Celebrían walked for hours after dark the prior evening, with me as chaperone of course. I did everything I could outside doing the deed myself. Elrond was just too shy…,"

"And afraid of Celeborn," Elrond added. "We actually discussed if we should start kissing and maybe a grope or two that night."

Glorfindel snickered, "That was one funny conversation. 'If I were to press my lips to yours, sweet Celebrían, would your adar depart my head from the rest of me with Faenrúth?'"

"You aren't supposed to be eavesdropping," Elrond complained. "Yes, you should talk about everything with one you plan on marrying. We discussed appropriateness of actions to be taken, as I would hope my children would do with their intended. She gave permission for our first kiss to be shared with our friends and family and that's what we did; on the landing; with every blasted elf clapping and catcalling."

"Celeborn didn't say a word," Glorfindel laughingly reminded.

Elrond groaned. "I handed Celebrían on her horse and braved a look at her adar. His face was unreadable. I hate that expression on him. It could mean welcome to the family or I'm never coming this way again and my realm is closed to you. Come to think of it, Celeborn just rode away." Elrond remembered being relieved he didn't have to have Glorfindel protect him that fateful morning.

' _Celeborn didn't say a word all day,'_ came floating into their minds from the next horse back. _'That night, camped among the pines, Celebrían asked if he was mad at her. He stated, he wasn't prepared to see his only child treated as a desirable elleth and he would need time to adjust. I reminded him he got off lucky with my adar across the sea when we first kissed. The first kiss is always the best.'_

"Remember my son; when you decide to pursue a wife, make the first kiss special and memorable," Elrond advised him. "And never kiss a lass just for the experience. Save yourself for the right one."

"I hope that is a long way off," Elessar didn't know any girls his age living among elves. "I've never seen a human girl," he just realized. "The dwarf girls are short and I don't have a clue how old they really are. Gimli is sixty and so is Erak. One is a grown man and other not even considered an adult."

"An elfling at sixty is very young," Elrond told him. "We haven't had an elfling born at Imladris for two hundred years. The only children have been among the Dúnedain."

"I understand now why you don't kiss mother now," Elessar told Elrond. "It wouldn't be right; not for you or her."

Elrond smiled down at him and gave him a hug. "I don't kiss you either because you're a stinky boy." He tickled Elessar and the boy laughed and wiggled off the horse and ran away.


	33. 33 Challenges Made

Lady Risári was first to realize the heavy thudding was someone at the door pounding for entrance. "Lári, that would be the door."

Lári opened to their servants waiting entrance.

"We were given our old quarters." Mif, who was close to Risári's age and her personal servant since before Smaug, stated with enthusiasm. "We are ready to resume our duties, M'lady."

Lári stepped back and three that represented ages from Risári to Lióni entered and looked around.

Another knock followed on their heels and Mif rushed to get it before one of the lady's moved. "Yes?" she asked a middle aged female that was also dressed in rich clothing of a personal servant.

"Lady Aneht, Lord Dáin's mother, invites the ladies of this chamber to afternoon tea."

Mif turned to see Risári's shocked expression. She raised an eyebrow and waited.

Risári nodded her acceptance.

Mif turned back to the servant, still waiting in the hall. "Will we be escorted?"

"Of course. Someone will gather you at three." Without further pleasantries, the servant left.

"That was quick," Risári noted aloud. She motioned for the servants to listen. "I wish us decked in our finest clothing. I'll wear the black with orange flourishes. While we are visiting, please unpack and iron our wardrobe. You can start with what we will be wearing in an hour."

The servants bustled into bedchambers to do their ladies biddings.

* * *

Again, several warriors were their escort and they were taken past many more standing like statues. Their escort knocked loudly on a polished wooden door carved with the Durin crest and made from a thick slab of a single tree, with rings that counted into the hundreds. The servant who bid them come answered. They followed into a warmly decorated room with chandeliers and gas lights along the walls and gold seams visible at every turn.

Risári curtsied to an older dam and was relieved to see Lári and Lióni copying her every move. "Lady Aneht, the years have been kind."

Aneht chuckled, "I see your eyesight is as good as mine. It's good to see you again, Risári. This is my daughter-in-law, Azie and her mother, Theri."

"Lady Azie, I don't lie when I say you are easy on the eyes. Lady Aneht, do you remember my daughter, Lári? I was honored when Lady Dás insisted Durin's host the dwarfling shower when she was born."

Aneht nodded politely, "I was visiting and took my turn holding her." She smiled at Risári. "Those were some of the best days."

Risári nodded, "None better, although I hope we rival the days of old."

Aneht and Azie turned attention to the one they wanted to get a good look at; a possible future addition to their clique. And one brave or foolish enough to think she stood a chance of winning the favors of either Thorin or approval of the king and take her place as queen and one day an ancient dwarrowdam, who secretly ruled Erebor.

Lióni stood still under their scrutiny, head held high and eyes meeting theirs.

"The lass is beautiful. Your name, child?" Aneht commanded.

"I am called Lióni," she simply replied and for once didn't embarrass her antecedents.

"What did you think of our Thorin?" Azie asked her directly while Risári led the way to the formal sitting room where servants were waiting with tea and cookies.

"I don't really know him well enough to form an opinion," Lióni respectfully answered and hoped they stopped with the questions. To her relief, the Durin dams started asking her elders about their time in Jötunheim. She noticed a lass even younger than she, who was quiet, but listening. "Who are you?" she asked quietly.

The girl moved to sit beside her. "I'm Lord Dáin's daughter, Aneh. Mother is expecting so I won't be the youngest for long."

Lióni shifted her eyes swiftly to Azie's middle and saw very slight a bulge. "I have an older brother."

"So do I. He is almost grown and spends all his time with the warriors."

"Mine is of age and learning how to be a lord," Lióni told her.

"I hope you can stay. There are three lasses from the Iron Hills with designs on Thorin. He met with them and I heard from the grapevine that he told his father he would throw himself off the rampart if he had to wed any of them."

"I saw the real king last night." Lióni gingerly touched the sore spot on the side of her head; glad hair covered the lump.

Aneh giggled, "I was in the secret gallery last night and saw you. I can't believe you took a swing at our General."

"I haven't seen my father or brother since last night. Why didn't kin…err, Prince Thorin confront him before we reached Erebor?"

Aneh shrugged, "All I know is the king is kind and likes to flirt with me. He calls me his girlfriend."

Lióni was burning to ask questions about his being prisoner of Dol Guldur, but not in front of the older dams, who obviously loved the king by the glowing things they were saying.

Tea, a front for meeting dwarrowdams, was done and each of the elder dams knowing the lay of the mountain hierarchy and pecking order until the next group arrived, departed and were escorted with many stares back to their chambers.

Behind a solid door, Lióni asked, "Are we also prisoners?"

"No, child, why do you ask?" Risári answered as she took her beard off.

"We are escorted everyplace we go and there are guards outside our door."

"Those guards will remain. They are our protection. Your great grandfather, Nár, had them stationed thus."

"When can we walk around then?" Lióni demanded.

The older dams exchanged knowing looks and her mother tried to placate her desire for adventure. "Tonight we will go to the bathing chambers deep in the mountain. As a little girl, I loved swimming in the warm waters."

* * *

A guard jumped to attention and quickly turned the key in the lock allowing Balin, Dáin, Dwalin and Bofur entrance to Lord Dóvad's cell.

Out of respect, Dóvad rose to his feet and motioned his son to do the same.

Balin, with his natural cheerfulness smiled and looked around. "I see they gave you the best cell."

"How are the dams fairing?" Dóvad demanded. He feared they were removed from the mountain and camped where roving orcs could capture them.

"Tea with my mother an wife," Dáin announced and saw doubt flash across the face of the lord. "I speak truth."

"Have you had time to reflect on how you ended up here?" Balin directed the conversation back to the prisoners.

"Aye," Dóvad confirmed. "Did ye know that Fræg was escorted here this morning?" At the Durin's nods, he continued, "Seems like I should have followed my guts instead of an idiot of ah healer."

"So you're ready to apologize publically to the king?" Dáin asked.

"If it will get us out of this cell, I'll crawl on hands and knees down that blasted walkway," Dóvad growled.

Balin turned his eyes to the son. "Well lad, do you feel like apologizing to the one you attacked?"

"Attacked?" Tóvad ground out in furry. "All I did was try and dump that old warrior off the walkway. Hardly an attack." He was still smarting at those he rode with turning on his family and glared at Dwalin and Bofur; two he now detested the most; for they befriended him and now he felt betrayed.

"I'm sure my son is eager to apologize to General Lötun and the king."

Dwalin stalked to the youth. "Maybe a round with me in the ring is more to yer likeing."

Tóvad nodded. "That would suit me better. If I win, I will not apologize ta any old dwarf; king an general or not."

Balin groaned, "Dwalin, remember, he is but a youth with a big mouth and ego. No permanent injuries."

"Don't ye have ah youth around his age he can fight? Fighting the General of all the king's armies isn't fair," Dóvad cried out.

Balin spoke in Sindarin. "Well Company? Do we let either Fili or Kili take him?"

"Either lad will clean the arena with his worthless carcass. Why I'd even put my underage lad up against this braggart," Dáin replied in his broken response.

Balin turned to Dóvad, "I agree; it wouldn't be a fair fight. We have four lads; two not yet grown and two his age that are Durin's. One is here and three are on the road. When they arrive, we will have a real match and this little lord wannabe can take his choice of targets." He turned to Tóvad. "I suggest you challenge one of the dwarflings. Gimli, Lord Glóin's son is the youngest; about fifteen years younger than you. Maybe you can take him."

Tóvad felt his face flush in anger, "I'd fight your Generals, but doubt they have my youthful stamina. If I must choose ah lesser Durin, I'll look them over an challenge the pick of the litter. Do ye have ah name for me ta call him?"

"Fili," Dwalin laughingly replied and motioned for the door to be opened. He left first and turned back. "Choose Gimli."

As the door closed and locked again, they heard laughter down the hall.

Dóvad sighed and sat in a hard wooden chair by a plain square table. "I swear, I don't know which of ye is worse. Yer sister has ah knot on the side of her head that is smartin by now an ye should have just meekly apologized ta the king an his general. Now we will sit here until the rest arrive." He grabbed the pitcher in the center of the table. Pouring a mug of water, he cursed it not being ale.

* * *

Mif's dour expression brightened when she saw who was on the other side of the door. "Lord Balin, please come in." She opened the door wide and Balin gave her a cheery smile and spritely marched into the large chamber.

"Ladies, I personally talked to Dóvad and that spirited lad of yours. He sends greetings and is fairing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. By circumstances…," he shook his head when Mif tried to place a tankard of ale in his hand, "I mean your lad, Tóvad, refuses to apologize to the king and has opted to fight one of the Durin lads instead."

Lióni couldn't help it; she burst out laughing, drawing all eyes to her. She saw the elder dams looking cross and a smile appear on the face of this so called Durin lord. She remembered him standing very close to the king, so probably insulted a ranking lord she decided. Then she remembered; he was the one who did most of the talking when introducing Durin's. She should have paid more attention. "I will place a bet on my brother to win."

"Dwalin told me about you, lass," was all Balin said before turning back to her grandmother. "Both will stay in jail until the fight. Ladies," he bowed his head and departed, with Mif standing by the door and curtsying.

"Durin's bane, girl," her mother started. "You are way too old to act that disrespectful. Lord Balin is chief advisor to King Thráin and you will do good to remember it. He didn't have to make a personal trip to tell us anything. You will apologize to him when next you meet, or I will insist you stay with your father and equally rude brother in that cell."

"I just thought it funny that Tóvad would stand up to these Durin's." Even her excuse sounded weak in her ears and she slipped back into her bedchamber before the next round of yelling began.

* * *

"I can read your thoughts," Glorfindel let Elrond know he was still at his side. Shadows were lengthening and he needed Elrond to make a decision on their camping spot. There was a stream a couple miles ahead that didn't have a curse and Glorfindel knew the dwarves would be hungry and tired by then.

"Really? What am I thinking?" Elrond snapped, peeved he was an open book for one with Maia powers.

"That you will send a letter to Lordling Fálmar and instruct him to court Arwen."

"Couldn't you have said that silently?" Elrond spun in his saddle to see if Arwen heard. To his relief, she was deeply in conversation with Erestor, who reappeared.

"You cannot change the future," Glorfindel warned.

"Elessar is growing up," Elrond glumly replied. "I know what conversation follows kissing. I've had it many times with my brother's progeny growing up in my halls. By age forty they are looking to marry. It is always the same; looking at females, dancing and flirting with females, stealing kisses with females, forbidden touches with females and the end results in another generation of Dúnedain chieftains. Only this time, all that is being done with my daughter. Maybe I'll just sail."

"Pull your head out of your misery, Elrond," Glorfindel sagely ordered. "If you leave me alone with all that wine, I won't care what happens to your elflings."

Elrond smiled, mood improving. "Erestor told me I should approach King Bard for one of his daughters for Elessar." He saw a knowing grin thrown his way. "I'll make Bard an offer he can't refuse, even if it's all my wine."

"NOOOOO," Glorfindel cried loudly and laughter was heard behind.

"What is going on, Adar?" Arwen spurred her horse between Elrond and Glorfindel.

Glorfindel smiled; challenging him to tell the truth.

"Elrond is trading my wine as dowry to King Bard."

"And who from this house is marrying into his?" she hadn't heard of this negotiation and was intrigued.

Behind, riding beside Erestor, Galadriel gave a knowing look to him.

Erestor nodded back that he understood her silent thought.

"Well, we have Elessar and he has two daughters, who are princesses."

"I've never known you to match make, Adar," Arwen stated. "In fact, you do just the opposite."

"Only where elves are concerned and I did my best to match Ríllas with Thranduil. I plan on helping Thorin find his one and while I'm at it, think maybe Elessar might find one of Bard's girls to his liking." He watched his daughter carefully.

Arwen absorbed this new development and it made a little more sense why her father and even Lord Círdan was making this very long trip. Suddenly she had insight that events were unfolding and the elves and Gandalf were needed to set a proper order to things.

"I trust you will do the right thing." She smiled up at him.

Elrond felt blood rush from his face and studiously kept his eye forward. If she only knew.

* * *

Dáin, Dwalin and Lötun stood on a raised dais of the main hall for warriors, deep within the mountain. It was here matches were held and warriors trained. Thráin ordered Dóvad's warriors and personal guards informed of the situation.

Lötun made a motion and a horn sounded, drawing all talking to a close. He stepped slightly ahead of Dwalin and Dáin. Briefly he filled them in. "If any wish King Thráin harmed and don't believe his story, step out. We will have it out right here, first with words and if that fails, Dwalin is here to fight in the stead of the king. If ye attack like ah coward later, yer family will be executed, from eldest ta baby in the crib."

A handful of warriors stepped out and the Dwalin spotted all of Jötunheim's ranking lords counted among the dissenters. He stepped to Lötun's side and grunted, "I'll take over."

Lötun stepped aside and nodded to his trained elite guard to mark those daring the authority of Erebor. Each warrior signaled the dwarf he would be spying on with Khuzdul hand signs.

"Lord Máfog, as lord of war from Jötunheim's elite guard and presiding warrior, speak for your clan."

Máfog bowed his head respectfully. "I find it disturbing King Thráin only allowed Longbeards before his throne last night. I am second ta the ranking lords of the Blacklocks an should have been present." He had twenty braided strands for a beard that was iron grey and long. They twisted like rope when he spoke in anger, and gestured with a Warhammer every other word.

"Does he speak for all who came from Jötunheim, both Blacklocks and Longbeards?" Dwalin raised his voice. He saw the entire aggregate of warriors in the hall nod and murmur amongst themselves they stood with their leaders.

"The king doesn't answer to anyone," Dwalin reminded them. He focused on those closest. "All warriors have to pledge loyalty to the crown and Durin's. We will have a match when all dwarves arrive for prizes and bragging rights. Do you wish to wait until the match or fight me and Dáin now?"

Máfog looked at his fellow lords. They all saw Dwalin and Thorin spar and knew the odds of them winning were slim. He addressed Dwalin once more. "We don't have an issue with Durin's; just want the king ta come an talk with us an answer questions."

"The demoted Fræg revealed all you are going to be told and need to know. We are here to determine your loyalty to the crown and Durin's," Dwalin repeated and added an edge to his tone, staring Máfog in the eyes.

"Can we at least talk to Dóvad and see with our own eyes his heath?" Máfog negotiated.

Dwalin glanced at Dáin, glad for once he outranked him.

Dáin issued a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "If Lord Dóvad doesn't wish ta join Fræg in exile, he will issue ah pretty apology ta our king. The lad chose ta spar for rights ta apologize. They will sit in solitary until the lad either has ah change of heart or faces one of our lads in the ring. Ye can face me an Dwalin today, right now, an if ye win, ye will be allowed ta leave the mountain an never come this way again. If we win, ye will take ah knee an pledge loyalty ta Durin's an the king an may remain."

"I saw ye fight at Azanulbizar," Máfog answered. "I guess, I have no choice, but ta take yer word an ah knee."

One by one, all the warriors took knees, except one large, stout warrior. With all eyes on him, he challenged in a loud voice. "I was too young for the last war, but lost my father an grandfather an all my uncles an older brother. I live ta be the greatest warrior of my house an the Blacklock clan. I challenge either of you an if I win the first bought, will fight the other."

Dáin, Dwalin and Lötun exchanged grins. Lötun nodded he accepted the match. "Ye have ah choice, fight tonight with all the Durin's present, or be held in ah cell until the next group of dwarves arrives an show yer skill before the Crown Prince also."

"I watched the Crown Prince an Lord Dwalin spar. They are no match for me. I will fight tonight an if Prince Thorin wishes, I'll wipe the floor with him when he comes."

"Cocky, ain't ye, lad," Dáin laughingly approved.

"He is our best warrior," Máfog proudly bragged. "Only his youth keeps him from leading all warriors. Give him ah hundred years, an his name will be sang throughout the lands."

"He bests you?" Dwalin asked, eyebrows raised. He knew Máfog fought with honor at Azanulbizar and earned his position.

The old warrior nodded slowly.

* * *

Thranduil raised a long stemmed flute to his lips and savored yet another fine vintage. "Why don't we stay here and let the world pass without us." He focused his eyes on his companion in his personal bathing pool.

"Galadriel told me of a vision her mirror gave. She sails alone and you and I remain to do just that." Celeborn tasted what brought bliss to Thranduil's fëa from his place in the warm water across the bathing pool. As expected, it was of finest quality and sported a rich bouquet of fermented grape.

"Excuse me, my lord," the young steward who manned his gate reported. When he had the King's eye, he gave his missive. "Those who protect this mighty realm report a large number of elves and dwarves have entered our lands. Numbers are in the thousands."

"Do you have identification on the elves?" Celeborn asked.

"Yes, my lord. The wardens report Lord Glorfindel and another elf, who visited the king a few months ago, were the first two spotted. They were deep in conversation and the warden slipped away to report unnoticed."

"If Glorfindel was present, the march warden wasn't unnoticed," Celeborn cynically retorted.

"Who else did my wardens recognize?" Thranduil inquired.

"Lord Elrond and two elleth."

Celeborn and Thranduil exchanged surprised looks.

"And what two elleth would travel to these lands?" Thranduil asked.

"Lord Celeborn's lady and his granddaughter," the hapless messenger reported and hoped he didn't face the ire of either lord for his news.

"I guess my wife didn't get enough Nazgûl to play with." Celeborn drained his glass and held it out for a refill. "You may not have enough wine if either gets injured. And I'll be dead before I dip into my small cache before the gates of Caras Galadhon."

"Is that all the noteworthy elves?" Thranduil demanded.

"Prince Legolas was seen riding at the rear of the long caravan with a bearded elf." The youth didn't know elves grew beards and in his isolated home and limited education, didn't have anyone ever describe Círdan's appearance. He was shocked when both lords let their heads bang backwards against marble tile at the same time and identical curses escaped.

"I suppose I should make my halls ready for inspection," Thranduil lamented. "I'll have to pull my seasoned warriors off patrol for a show of strength. Círdan won't hesitate to rip me a new orifice if he finds my kingdom lacking."

The young messenger's eyes widened at the mention of who was coming.

"You can borrow my army," Celeborn magnanimously offered.

"At what cost?"

"Quarter of your wine."

"No."

Celeborn wickedly smirked. "You will do just fine explaining to Círdan your empty halls and spider attacks."

"What will it take for your warriors to keep the spiders off the track?" Thranduil considered maybe a quarter of his wine to keep the illusion he had his kingdom under control a bargain.

"Quarter of your wine."

"Bastard."

"We will ride to intercept them and guide them here in the morning," Thranduil decided. "So the two most powerful elves are coming to the mountain. Thráin should be honored."

"Or they want Thorin safely delivered so he isn't a pain in anyone else's backside," Celeborn offered his explanation.

"There goes my plans to throw the princeling in my dungeon again. I'm sure Círdan and Galadriel would object."


	34. 34 Thrain Accepts

"Ye always were short on brains, lad," Máfog cuffed the hot young Jötunheim warrior, Otsey across one hear. "I was just informed ye will be sparing the king himself. When the Durin lords reported back ta him, he decided ta make an example out of ye himself."

"Then I'll take the old king to his knees an knock some sense into his thick Durin skull," the cocky youth blustered in arrogance.

"He was ah top warrior in his day. He led most battles at Azanulbizar, an I respect him," Máfog snapped with impatience. "One thing about ye, lad; ye'll draw ah crowd of over ten thousand. I'm walking ye through the basics ta keep ye limber. The king will rest an be stiff. When ye get him down, slap his body with yer weapon an raise it over yer head in victory. He will be humiliated, but rules of sparing dictate his kin can't gang up on ye. Yer the pride of the Blacklocks, an outside Lord Dóvad, are the best we have." He slowly worked the youth, certain Thráin in his advanced years would lose.

* * *

"Ale, Picket," Thráin cast out his order the moment he brushed by his servant waiting to close the door to his chambers.

Picket nodded without a word and departed to a hall where cool, wooden barrels rested on stilts of half a dozen varieties.

"I'm going ta rest ah wee spell before my big fight tonight," he told Balin, who followed him inside.

"You don't have to do this," Balin tried reason. "We need our king alive and healthy. If you are killed or gravely injured, I'm sure war will break out within these halls."

A loud pounding on the door with a staff alerted them to the most likely visitor.

"I hope he can talk sense into your thick skull," Balin grumbled and opened to Gandalf.

"I just heard, Thráin," Gandalf bellowed and grabbed the mug of ale off the tray Picket was carrying. Downing half the mug, he set on a chair by the king.

Picket grumbled and went for a pitcher and more mugs this round.

"It is my chance ta put an end ta those who think I'm old an weak," Thráin calmly replied. "Remember the fight I gave ye?"

Gandalf laughed. "You were a wild thing, that's for sure. Do you remember?"

Thráin shook his head. "I rely on your story having veracity when telling of meeting me an how hard I was ta subdue."

"Just don't hurt the lad too much," Gandalf advised. His eyes narrowed. "You aren't planning anything else are you?"

Thráin tried to look innocent. "What makes ye say that, Gandalf?"

"Where is this fight to be held?"

"I'm sure word is all over the mountain an by tonight, thousands will be gathered. Balin," he looked at his advisor, "we'll fight in the main ring."

Balin nodded, "Eye, anything else?"

"Have the Durin's geared up in case we are attacked. Put even Ori in armor.

Balin looked miserable. "If the king wasn't involved, I would feel better and so would the others. Maybe we can have just the Durin's put on a show and let Dwalin take on the Blacklock youth."

Thráin glowered at him. "For the last time I'm fighting. However, I'll accept Dóvad's apology if I remember it afterwards an he can pledge loyalty in front of the Blacklocks and Longbeards."

Gandalf muttered about the idiocy of dwarves and rose, imparting advice. "Lord Dóvad is angry at Thorin for deceiving him. If you can, mend that bridge before Thorin arrives."

"Thorin acted under my orders. If Dóvad becomes reasonable, I will have ah talk with him. Nay, I'll just beat the stuffin out of him."

"I've seen very few reasonable dwarves in my centuries on these shores. I'll not hold my breath you will go with the first choice." With that Gandalf stooped through the door Balin held open and they departed together.

Thráin took the offered mug and motioned for the pitcher to be placed on the table beside him. "Get my black outfit from the amour an polish everything including my boots. Don't forget my helmet."

Picket nodded and silently departed to Thráin's private sitting room.

He reached for the book and let his hand slide instead to a carved figurine. Hefting its weight, he remembered when he bought it for his wife. A human trader from Gondolin was hawking his wares in the market of Erebor and that in itself was strange.

" _We don't get many other races selling in our halls," I began an looked the tall man over._

 _His iron grey hair was neatly cropped below his ears an his eyes spoke of intelligence an in a vociferous voice he proclaimed, "My good dwarf, I have traveled the breadth of these splendid lands and acquired riches from the Orocarni to the far south where the Haradwaith meets the Anduin. I've lived in the fair elven city of Mithlond and traveled north to Forlond. I've traveled the Great East Road and visited the chieftain of the Dúnedain. Lord Elrond welcomed my at Rivendell and I sold many an item to the fair elves of the last homely house east of the sea. I am here to hopefully catch the eye of King Thrór and his lovely ladies. If one of the House of Durin would purchase even the smallest mite, my reputation would be made."_

 _There was ah general snicker around me an I looked over his wares. True ta his word, I found items from the far reaches of Middle Earth. I reached for ah carved woman statue about ten inches in height. "From where does this hail?" In my hand was an ivory carving of unknown design._

 _The man took it and held it to the light. "This is walrus tusk, from the Forodwaith. I bought a batch off a group of men who lived in the far north. They had fair locks and pale blue eyes and stood as tall as elves. In the cold winter nights, they carve all they know of their lands. This is one of their wives. You can see the baby wrapped in furs on her back."_

 _I took the piece from his hand an sure enough ah wee bairn was on her back. Lis was heavy with Thorin an I sought ah special trinket for her. "How much?"_

" _Well, that is my finest piece…," he started and I held my hand up._

" _I can afford the item."_

" _Lord Elrond himself set that very piece back on the table when I said I wanted five gold coin for it," the man stated with doubt a mere dwarf could afford the item._

 _I looked carefully at the craftsmanship an saw it ta be perfect. "You know dwarves have ah keen eye for detail….," I started an he interrupted._

" _That's why I didn't insult your eyes with inferior quality. That I save for the towns of men." He smirked. "Even I know my kind are slow."_

 _I smiled at that an dug my pouch from ah pocket. "Five it is."_

 _His eyes widened in shock. "Are you not going ta bargain for ah cheaper price?"_

 _I had the satisfaction of stating, "Why? My coffers will be enriched beyond those five by day's end."_

" _Are all dwarves so rich?" he asked in awe._

" _Nay, but I am the Crown Prince."_

 _Laughter broke out an I heard the man mutter, "I should have doubled the price."_

 _I put it in another pocket an nodded good day an continued ta my chambers. My day was over an I looked forward ta an ale an sit with Lis an relax. The door between chambers was closed so I knew it was just my wife ta greet me. I motioned for the servant ta bring food with sign language._

 _Lis looked at me from ah comfortable chair. In her lap was she was sewing something for the baby. The small smile of welcome she gave me became something I couldn't go a day without seeing. "I told your parents and mine, we are staying in. I'm too tired after lugging your son around all day to visit."_

 _I nodded my approval. She was starting ta assert herself with them. Leaning over, I kissed her hungrily. When I straightened, I had the figurine in my hand. "I saw this in the market an know this time next week, ye'll be packin our baby in yer arms. This is ah reminder, the wait an pain is worth giving me ah son, an I love ye for being my wife an mother of what I hope is several dwarflings."_

 _Her eyes welled up and she took it carefully. "It's the most beautiful carving I've ever seen. Look at the detail. You can see each hair on the fur ruff. Bring me soft furs and I'll make a blanket to bundle the baby in like this little fellow._

" _I'll see ta it tomorrow."_

 _I left her holding the trinket an set at the table, downing a mug of ale before speaking. "Come an eat with me."_

" _I ate an hour ago, love. Your son said he couldn't wait any longer. I set down to a meal with your parents and grandmother. Your mother said she placed the healers on notice. Grandmother Ziari can hardly wait."_

" _Four nights later I was sleeping deeply when ah slap landed on the side of my face. "How many times do I have to hit you before you get your worthless carcass from this bed and fetch the healer?"_

 _I remember rolling away from her hand an stumbling ta my feet, hand reaching for my trousers on the chair nearby. Semi-awake, I looked back at our comfortable bed. "If ye think I'm setting up an pacing the floor, ye are dead wrong. I'll find another place ta sleep." I was all bluster, but didn't want her ta know just how scared her having my dwarfling made me now that it was really happening._

" _Not until you get that healer your grandmother has on call," she ordered._

 _I dressed swiftly an ran from our chambers. Stopping in the hall, I grabbed the first guard my hands lighted upon. "Fetch the healer."_

" _The babe?" he asked an I nodded. Watching ah guard in full battle armament run down the hall I wandered what I was supposed ta do next. My role wasn't for ah couple years an I knew the youngster was in good hands with three generations of dams fussing over it. Standing in the middle of Durin's Hall, I started thinking of training him. He needed to know nothing save ah sword in his right hand an Warhammer the left. Done planning my son's immediate future, I went back inside the main chamber an waited for the healer._

Thráin chuckled at his next memories and a hand caressed the silky smooth carving.

 _A pounding at the door had me throwing it open ta non-other than the head healer. "I didn't know ye were the healer my grandmother referred to when word reached me one was on call."_

 _The old healer brushed by me an snorted, "I brought ye into this world an will not let one of my imbecilic underlings near the royal family at ah time like this." He stalked into the bedchamber with me following._

 _I looked at the slight figure of my wife an looking at her slender figure, realized she wasn't fit ta birth any dwarfling, let alone ah Durin. What was my father thinking when he allowed her ta marry me? The words of warning reinforced when she let out ah scream of pain. I turned an hurried far from my chambers an blindly rushed past statues called guards, running up the steps ta the rampart. I saw two posted guards._

" _Leave me." Alone with my fears, I looked at the nightlights of Dale. I heard of women in that town dying in childbirth, but dwarves were hearty an I don't remember ever hearing of ah death. I looked at the twinkling stars this clear night an prayed all the prayers I knew. I watched the sky turn grey an then ah pink band formed in the east. Lost in thought, I didn't hear footsteps._

" _Sudri sent his apprentice ta wake yer mother an me." Father let his presence be known._

" _Why did ye choose her for me?" I snarled in rage an turned ta face my father, no longer the subservient subject or doting son._

" _Well, if ye waited in yer chambers instead of fleeing like ah scared dwarfling, ye would be holding yer son right now."_

" _Lis?" I breathed out, not believing anyone could endure such anguish an still live._

" _Well, she is feeding your son as I speak," Father stated with humor._

 _I looked into his blue eyes for deception an saw only love. I brushed by him an knew he was following by the way everyone stopped an bowed. We entered my chambers an I saw all my family gathered down to distant cousins._

" _We thought you might have abandoned your new family and left for parts unknown," my grandmother broke the silence of everyone looking at me and I them._

" _Where is he?" I asked an ignored the laughter grandmother's words had on them._

" _I reckon with his mother," father joked an that earned him another glare._

 _I stomped ta my bedchamber an hoped she was alone. "Leave us," I ordered her mother, who was holding ah small bundle. "Leave that thing with us."_

 _Lis watched her mother place the baby on my side of the bed an depart without ah word, closing the door softly so not ta wake the wee bairn._

 _I carefully pulled ah soft woolen blanket away from his body so I could see all of him. "Now ye can diaper my son." Tradition instructed the newborn's gender had ta be verified by the father or male before swaddling. "Tomorrow he will be presented ta the mountain an lords for examination an there I will name him." I kept my eyes averted from my love for fear she was ailing an going ta die an it would be my fault._

" _Thráin," she stopped my rambling an I looked at her with fear in my one eye._

" _I was scared to death," I admitted. "Ye are so fragile an birthing ah Durin isn't like ah normal dwarfling."_

" _Birthing ah Durin is exactly like all other dwarflings," she countered an grasped my hand nearest her and squeezed firmly. A dying dam couldn't do that and I was assured she was fine. "Durin's may be gifted, but come into this world like any other dwarfling."_

 _I snorted my disbelief. "Grandmother says it is harder."_

" _She birthed three strapping sons. Look at him."_

 _I carefully picked the mite up in both hands. He weighed next ta nothing an was skinny, like his mother. His eyes opened an Durin blue's tried ta focus on me. Ah wisp of black fuzz pointed in all directions on his head. I carefully smoothed it into place an he seemed ta like my touch for he smiled. Unknown until Lis pointed it out; I was smiling exactly like him back._

" _How did it go? I inquired an reached for ah diaper waiting on the bed an watched Lis tie it in place an dress him in ah tiny knitted gown. Rewrapping the blanket, she laid the baby on her breasts._

" _I'm tired. Why don't you lie with us."_

 _That sounded good, so I toed my boots off an shed my trousers, leaving my loose tunic. I positioned her against my chest an let my arms circle both of them, securing them in my firm grasp._

 _Settled, she told me how she screamed an swore she was going ta kill me ta the laughter of Master Sudri who informed her all dams swear ta kill the one who did this ta them._

 _Listening to her soft voice, I drifted off just as father entered an grabbed the baby. I was told later, he took him ta grandmother Zairi for her blessing. She took the child in frail arms and looked into his blue eyes. 'A hard life I see and then a strong king.' Word of her prognostication spread clear to Dale and for a time we wondered what she meant._

 _Next day, I proudly carried the bundle through the halls ta the balcony overlooking the entrance. I swear all thirty thousand dwarves were packed like fish in ah barrel. I unwrapped the blanket an let them get their first glimpse of his dark hair. A herald made the announcement._

' _Here ye, here ye, on the third of March in the year twenty seven hundred and forty six of the Third Age of this world, a son was born to Crown Prince Thráin II and Princess Lis. He is hereby named, Prince Thorin II. Long may he live."_

 _I remembered the cheering of the crowd an held my free hand up for silence. "He was presented to the Durin lords and is not a Durin reincarnate," I formally told the dwarves an heard their moans._

Thráin set the piece back where it was. He wondered just how good the lad he volunteered to spar really was. Slowly, he started stretching muscles from his chair. Then he stood and worked kinks out and felt a loosening of his body. He had a secret nobody knew about, and tonight they would learn.

* * *

"I sense you are hiding," Elrond spoke when coming upon Thorin sitting on a log watching the slow moving stream. He was on the elven side, chewing on jerky. Without an invite he sat down.

Thorin offered another piece and Elrond accepted. They ate in silence until both pieces were consumed.

Elrond reached in his pocket and pulled an apple. Slicing it, he offered half.

Thorin accepted and took a bite. "I can't take the lasses chasing after me."

"I've seen one pursuing you regularly. Is she from the White Mountains?" Elrond asked, although he was sure he was correct.

Thorin nodded and shoved the last bite in. Swallowing, he continued. "I'm scared to lie down for fear she will crawl in with me and I'll be forced to wed her."

"My patrols have come upon you the last five nights sleeping in the woods. As soon as we entered Mirkwood, you slip away at night. I've ordered guards to protect you."

"I almost wish something would eat me in the night."

Elrond's grin was the widest Thorin had ever seen and then it dropped like a large rock off a cliff. "Mithrandir is contacting me."

Thorin watched in fascination while Elrond blanked out for a second.

"We need to hurry to my camp. Mithrandir is going to show us something."

* * *

Ten thousand dwarves were waiting in the arena and it's six rows of circular seating. The natural amphitheater was carved from rock and voices in the center of the ring was plainly heard in the back elevated row. One end had boxes and ranking dwarrowdams and their dwarflings could be seen by common dwarves and they took note that Lady Aneht, the ranking dam, had the center seat.

Dóvad and Tóvad were escorted to a spot at ground level and had guards nearby, although escape wasn't possible. Cheering erupted from a quarter of the spectators when Otsey of the Blacklock Clan entered the arena and waived his Warhammer to the crowd that gathered on one side. He shouted, "I promise to just dust the gems an gold off this rich king." The crowd roared its approval on one side and boos resounded off the walls from the opposite side.

Dori strode into the ring to more cheers and catcalls. He raised his hand and the noise subdued. "Believe it or not, but I am the strongest Durin." There was good natured laughing and he continued. "I am not, however, the best fighter. Oh, I can hold my own, but Thorin Oakenshield and Dwalin, regularly bested me in sport. He looked at Otsey. "I'm not fighting you, lad. Now if we were to have a contest of strength, I would gladly volunteer. As king, Thráin has the right to spar and no amount of talking amongst the Durin's could assuage his determination. So, without further introduction, King Thráin."

Everyone rose to their feet in respect and clapped wildly. Thráin was accompanied by the rest of the Durin's and they all wore opulent mithril and gold armor.

Gandalf stood along a wall on the top row. He didn't like this one bit and wondered what Thráin was up to. Dwalin or Dáin Ironfoot was more than capable of taking this youth out. He doubted Thráin was up to the task and had an idea. He reached out to his fellow ring holders. "Lady, Elrond, link and look through my crystal at a fight between Thráin and a dwarf from Jötunheim." He felt their power reaching back.

"Hold on, Mithrandir," Elrond stated. "We are all together and nearing Thranduil's halls. Thorin is with me and I'm going to try and have him watch also."

Gandalf's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Very well."

Thorin kept pace with Elrand and they ran through the woods and into the elven camp. At the great lord's haste, many sentries pulled weapons, sure they were being chased.

"Galadriel, Círdan, Glorfindel, Erestor, quickly, we need to form a circle and join powers. Surprised elves watched those who had names called join hands in a circle. Erestor was linked to Galadriel on one side and Glorfindel the other and everyone had at least one hand linked to either Elrond or Galadriel, with Thorin holding Círdan and Elrond's hands. Others gathered around and Elladan shouted to Lord Garad to bring Gróin and other Durin's to watch. Soon a crowd gathered to see a white light glowing around the five participants.

Thorin saw the arena full of dwarves and his father decked in armor facing dwarf of equal size, although looking much younger. 'What are you doing, father?' he mentally asked, not aware his thoughts were easily carried to the elves and wizard.

"They are fighting, Prince Thorin," Gandalf replied and he heard the voice in his head and was shocked.

* * *

"Look, there's father and Tóvad," Lióni exclaimed with excitement. In looking around the enclosed viewing area and greeting the Durin dams, they missed Dóvad and his son escorted to the fight.

Dóvad was surprised when a guard opened their cell and ordered them out. "Ye are going ta watch a Blacklock get what ye should," the guard snarled. "One wrong move an we will break yer legs." He saw a dozen guards and stated they wouldn't cause problems.

Seeing someone wave from the box, he spotted his daughter and wife and waved back, a smile of relief at them being well taken care of and sitting in the Durin's private box to boot. His attention was drawn back to the spectacle before him. He caught Thráin's eye and knew his best warrior challenged instead of pledging loyalty to the Durin's. He didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed.

Tóvad had no doubts who he favored to win. "Get him for me, Otsey," he hollered out. His voice carried to the crystal and Thorin ground his molars and vowed to teach the youth a lesson when he got to the mountain.

Thráin raised his gilded Warhammer with the Durin crest displayed on each side. "We have ah good turnout for our little match." The crowd laughed and clapped and he smiled, turning in a circle to see where the Blacklocks were seated. He hoped he wasn't struck down in the back by a rogue warrior, although piercing his mithril armor was unlikely.

Balin, also in resplendent armor joined them in the center of the ring. "I tried to talk sense into our king and have Dwalin fight in his stead. In response, our king instructed me to place all Durin's in armor and he is going to pick one for a real match after he spanks this dwarfling."

Otsey and several Blacklocks howled in anger.

Balin smiled at him. Thráin asked him personally to insult the young warrior and take his skilled edge off. He saw the ploy worked perfectly and maybe the king stood a chance. He signaled the match to begin and quickly hustled back to stand between Dwalin and Dáin.

Thorin Stonehelm was excited and waited anxiously for the first blow to fall. He knew his mother and sister were in the private viewing box, but didn't look up. He didn't want to miss a thing.

Thráin knew he couldn't use all his skill against this youth, for he needed surprise against his next opponent.

Far away, Thorin asked, "Gandalf, who is his next opponent? I thought he was only fighting once."

"This is the first I'm hearing of another bought. I may have to end things if Thráin gets injured. Don't worry, Thorin, I'll not let your father be seriously harmed."

The dwarves and elves only heard Thorin's question and wondered what was happening. That Thorin was seeing something they couldn't was apparent.

Otsey saw and opening and swung against Thráin's blind side, sure he would knock the old dwarf off his feet.

Thráin saw the arm move and jumped back, smashing his Warhammer down. The massive head slammed Otsey's into the hard rock floor and it slipped out of the youth's hand. Half the audience groaned while the other half laughed and clapped. Thráin easily humiliated the young warrior. "Pick it up, lad," Thráin ordered. "I hope ye aren't the best warrior, or the Blacklock's are in trouble."

Red faced with shame and glad for a helmet to cover burning cheeks, he snagged his weapon off the floor to much laughter and catcalling. Rage blinded him and he lunged, swinging wildly from side to side, sure he would back the king off the floor and win by default. Skill and reasoning swiftly fled and it was what Thráin hoped would happen. He fought many opponents who lost their temper and those were the easiest to beat.

Thráin backed up half a dozen steps and then swung, blocking the Warhammer with his own. He had to give the youth credit for being fast and strong, for his arm ached at the effort. Just as fast, he slammed his down on a boot, eliciting a howl of pain from his opponent. He was warming up and danced around the youth, slapping the back of his helmet with the Warhammer. The youth went down with a groan. Thráin decided to end it and slapped his unprotected thigh with the Warhammer, eliciting a roar of pain from the youth.

"Ye don't fight like any warrior I've ever encountered," Otsey panted and the Warhammer on his neck kept him from rising.

Thráin leaned over and whispered, "Because for the last fifty years, I've only fought orcs an wargs. My fights were to the death, so I had ta learn ah few new tricks. Now, go sit down an watch me show ye what I'm really capable of doing. Oh, while you're on your knees, pledge loyalty." He subtly switched to formal speech and helped Otsey into a kneeling position. Before everyone, Otsey pledged loyalty to Thráin and all Durin's.

He limped off and Thráin turned to his next opponent and pointed his Warhammer straight out. In a loud voice, he ordered…


	35. 35 Vengence Is Mine

"Dáin Ironfoot, step out. One by one, I'm taking revenge on every lord who refused to help Thorin retake Erebor. Thorin might think vengeance is his, but by right of the king, it is MINE." He roared the last word and everyone knew a showdown of the ages was before them.

Otsey accepted a glass of ale and the prodding of a Blacklock healer.

"What did he say ta ye?" Dóvad leaned over and asked.

Otsey thought how to answer his lord and decided the king's words were for him alone, so gave a different answer. "I felt like ah dwarfling at my first sparing lesson. How did he make it look so easy?" The thought of fighting orcs and wargs for fifty years overwhelmed his mind.

"His fighting superior than when he led us at Azanulbizar," Máfog uttered from Otsey's other side.

"I wouldn't have challenged if I knew he was capable of making me look like ah fool with just ah few blows," Otsey acknowledged. "I would like ta stay an learn from the Durin's."

Dóvad nodded his acceptance. "If they will have ye, I'll speak ta them."

"Will they listen ta ye?" Otsey had his doubts Dóvad possessed any sway with those willing ta toss him swiftly into the dungeon.

"Don't worry about this little dust up I'm having," Dóvad assured all who were listening. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Thorin Stonehelm's eyes were huge when his father slapped him on the shoulder and stated, "If ye ever find yerself in my place, fight an die with honor." He stalked proudly to the king and bowed. "Ye have the right ta execute judgement, but I warn ye, I'm not ah trifling youth ta be messed with. I may break ah few of yer bones, as I'm sure they are brittle with age."

Thráin laughed at Dáin's attempts to anger him, and was joined by almost everyone who also saw the ploy.

Gandalf glared and remained focused on maintaining connection with the others.

"He is mine to fight," Thorin Oakenshield screamed in rage.

"I'm sure you will take your turn when Lord Dáin recovers," Galadriel reassured him.

Elrond cast a glance at her and she met his eyes and smiled. Linked as they were, everyone could hear if he spoke so let his eyes meet hers for what he sought. There was merriment in her blue orbs, so he figured she knew the winner. He refocused on the fight.

* * *

Thráin slapped his Warhammer on the stone and sparks flew to the delight of the dwarflings. "Fight or run back ta the Iron Hills."

Dáin assessed Thráin's technique with the youth and adjusted his stance. When Thráin swung low, he jumped and came down from above, trying to break the arm that swung. He figured a clean break and all would be back to normal. He really didn't want to hurt the older dwarf. The arm wasn't where he aimed and he felt his ankle smart when Thráin pulled back in mid-swing. He barely had time to jump back before the older dwarf swung again.

Thráin aimed this time at Dáin's head, figuring he better knock the younger, stronger dwarf out fast, for Dáin was no novice in the ring. Dáin blocked and bunted Thráin's Warhammer with his own. Both stepped back assessing their next attack. Dáin aimed for ribs that would kill an orc and Thráin drew his sword and blocked, while getting another lick in on Dáin's body with the Warhammer. And so they attacked and parried and danced within the circle and it became obvious to the bystanders that for an old dwarf, Thráin fought like a dwarf in his prime. Slowly, he wore Dáin down and in turn felt himself matching pace.

Dáin knew his stamina was finished and threw his Warhammer, catching Thráin along his head on the blind side over the helmet. He had a flashback of a like injury not long before and hoped his kin didn't join the fray, for he heard them cursing and crying foul. He drew his sword and advanced.

Several days away, Thorin raged that he was going to drive Dáin into an early grave, one broken bone at a time. He felt hands tighten on his and realized he must be hurting the elves, so relaxed slightly.

Thráin was stunned and his sight blurred so he took several steps back. Instinct to survive took over and he swung the Warhammer high and stabbed low. He heard a curse and clang against his sword, as Dáin chose the wrong weapon to block and he took his own Warhammer blow to the head over his helmet.

Dáin keeled and let out a loud oomph as his back slammed into the floor. Before he could roll to his feet, the Warhammer struck again to his side and everyone heard his next exclamation in the form of oof and breath knocked from him.

Thráin laid the edge of the elven sword against Dáin's neck. "Had enough, lad?"

"Aye," he gasped out and held his hand for Thráin to pull him to his feet. Once upright, he laughed and slammed his head into Thráin's. "Good match, old one. Tell me, how did ye win ah bought that should have been mine?"

The crowd quieted quickly to catch the answer. "Fifty years of catching water skins an fighting orcs and wargs for Sauron's amusement kept me fit." He slapped Dáin's armor. "Ye are getting soft, while I was fighting as hard as the battles we fought at Azanulbizar all those years in captivity."

Dáin belted out a laugh. "Tell that ta the orcs an wargs I killed."

They made their way to their kin, each holding the other up and both in obvious pain.

Dwalin looked at Thráin with new respect. "I guess that will quiet the naysayers."

"I hope so. If I have ta take on too many of ye warriors in yer prime, I won't live very long."

Gandalf broke connection and hurried to Thráin's side, pushing through Durin's and the Company and those who wanted to be near the king. "You could have warned me, Thráin," he thundered and most warriors felt it better to slip to the drinking halls for ale and celebrate there.

Azie pushed through, leading the way with an army of dams in her wake. "You trying to kill my baby's father before it has a chance to know him?" she screamed in Thráin's face. King or not, she thought the fighting of Durin's petty and beneath the king.

"Azie," Dáin snarled in frustration. "He had every right ta take me ta task for failing Thorin. Mind yer place."

Azie's face turned red and without another word, she spun and hurried away before he or anyone could see tears welling up in her eyes. She knew being pregnant caused capricious emotions, but he was sleeping elsewhere tonight if she had any say in their home.

Aneht shook her head in disgust. "Dáin, you haven't got the sense of a raven. You never talk like that to a pregnant dam, or any dam for that matter. I hope Azie kicks you out of your plush bedchamber and makes you sleep on the floor like the dog you are."

Laughter broke out from everyone close enough to hear and Aneht led the other dams away.

Even Gandalf was grinning. "I think the dams did what I cannot." He sobered just as fast. "How many other leaders do you feel you must fight, Thráin?"

"When I heal from this bought, I'll deal with Dóvad next. Getting ah lick in on those who abandoned my son makes me feel good." He looked around until spotting Lötun. "Get Dóvad an his rat packed away?"

Lötun pushed between Dwalin and young Thorin to the king's side. "Aye, they are back in their cells. Lord Dóvad thought ye were going ta ask for his apology in front of everyone. He is prepared ta accept an take his place as one of your lord's."

"I'll let him cool his heels until Thorin arrives." His head injury left him dizzy and he wanted to get cleaned up and lie down and spotted Óin hovering. "Come ta my quarters, Dáin. That way, Óin doesn't have so far ta go. Besides, ye might want ta avoid yer home until Azie forgives yer rudeness. Of course, buying her an expensive trinket from the market will help."

Dáin's answer was to throw his arm around his son for support and he limped slowly to the Durin Hall.

"Da, I didn't think ye would lose," Thorin spoke quietly.

"Neither did I. He may very well be the toughest dwarf alive right now. How long did we fight? It seemed like forever."

"Ye fought for an hour without letup. I could see ye both getting slower as time passed."

"Feel like taking yer old man on?" Dáin joked.

"Right now, yes. When yer healthy, I'll pass."

Dáin chuckled and squeezed his shoulders.

Thráin, a few steps ahead, had his own helpers. He had Balin on one side and Dwalin the other. Each held an arm. "I am spending tomorrow in my chambers an maybe bed," he acknowledged, knowing his old body wasn't up to sparing like a dwarf in his prime too often.

"How long did it take you to recover from bouts of fighting fell beings?" Dwalin asked.

"They usually let me rest for ah week or more."

Balin looked at him sympathetically and they made the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

Thorin felt drained and wasn't surprised to see glowing hands of Glorfindel giving him strength and heard Elrond telling everyone what they were witness to. "Hanna," he muttered when the warrior stopped. He saw the elves departing to tents and dwarves walking a log over the creek.

Garad and other lords waited for him. "Coming?"

Thorin shook his head. "I'm staying with the elves until we reach the mountain." He didn't explain further, although the lords hoped. He motioned for them to leave and turned back to Elrond. "I will find a place under a wagon, if alright with you?"

"No, it's not alright with me," Elrond replied and turned to find Elladan. Seeing him near the family, he called out, "Elladan."

In three leaps, he joined them and his father ordered, "Make a cot for Prince Thorin in your tent."

"Yes, Adar."

Erestor overheard from returning to see Elrohir settled for the night. "I would rather Prince Thorin take Glorfindel's cot and bunk with me and leave that overgrown elfling in Elladan's tent. That way I can ask questions for the book."

Elrond shrugged and looked down to Thorin. "He is definitely more civilized and I'm sure has a fair amount of wine from the barrel that traveled over half of Middle Earth."

"I'm not sharing with a dwarf," Glorfindel protested vociferously, causing everyone but him to laugh. "I'll take the small cask I had filled to my new tent."

"Come, Thorin," Erestor invited. "I have the flask I carried when escorting you on the back of Gwaihir.

"You were holding out on me," Glorfindel wailed and Erestor turned and laughed at him.

"Come get your putrid wine."

* * *

"And how are you feeling this fine morning?" Gandalf greeted Thráin sternly and threw a glare at Dáin."

"We are enjoying a quiet morning before I have to work in my office and Dáin has ta get ah foothold back in his chambers in the form of ah gift for his wife. Join us for breakfast."

"That's why I'm really here," Gandalf admitted and changed his tone. Sitting at the cozy table, he grabbed a plate and cutlery. He let Picket pour a cup of tea before directing his attention to Dáin. "All you had to do was show up and drive a dragon from the mountain, Dáin."

Dáin looked at him in surprise. "I thought we were settled with that?"

"You know I used my magic and allowed Thorin to see the fight?"

Dáin mumbled around a bite, "Then I won't have ta fight him also."

"I wandered through the halls and market on my way here. Everyone is speculating on further acts of discipline on ranking lords." He pierced Thráin with his blue eyes as he spoke.

"What are they saying this fine morning, as you put it?" Thráin asked.

"Some think you fought with dark powers of Sauron and others took a more pragmatic stance. They said fighting to stay alive gave you strength and agility above those your age capable of exhibiting. Most think Dáin threw the fight."

Dáin turned beet red. "He beat me fair an square. I wouldn't allow any dwarf ah free mark against me, not even the king."

"I believe you, Dáin. I'm not the one you have to convince."

"It would be unfair to fight any other lord than Dóvad," Thráin reasoned. "The Longbeard leaders are too old. Garad and Fárin are my age. I suppose I could fight them at once. I figured ta fight Dáin an Dóvad, the younger lords ta show my displeasure."

"Ye really thinkin on taking them at once?" Dáin inquired.

"Might as well. Dóvad, I'll take like I did ye, one on one."

"Why don't ye let me take him?" Dáin offered.

"Nay, if I leave him ta anyone, it will be Thorin. Thorin will want ah fight also." He looked at Gandalf. "How did ye show Thorin our fight?"

"Magic and my crystal. The elves helped and I learned that Lady Galadriel and the lass, Arwen are also with Lord Círdan and in the dwarven caravan. The Nazgûl are no match for the combined powers accompanying Thorin.

"And of course your rings of power," Thráin added.

Gandalf threw a quick glance in Dáin's direction.

"I'm not as dumb as I look," Dáin replied with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "I figured ye and Elrond had the rings of Celebrimbor. I'm guessing the witch of the wood also bears one."

"Just so that information stays hidden. Did you tell him?" Gandalf asked Thráin.

Thráin shook his head. "Nay, I kept yer confidence.

"I'm not telling a soul," Dáin vowed and signaled an oath with his hand.

* * *

Lióni accompanied her mother to the market for the first time. It was much grander than the small trading post at Jötunheim, where merchandise from the west was slow to arrive, if at all. She spotted three lasses that shared their booth for the fight at the same time they saw her.

"Hello," one called out as they approached. "I'm Verdi, Lord Rádsvid's daughter. You are from Jötunheim and daughter of the disgraced Lord Dóvad."

They formed a half circle in front of her with the fat one in the middle.

"I'm Byrta, Lord Pýirt's daughter. We are from the Iron Hills and Longbeards. Mother says you are mongrel and not even qualified to be queen of all Longbeards, so why did your family come?"

Lióni looked at the thin, pale haired dwarrowlass with distain. "My father was the only one to show backbone against the Durin's, unlike your fathers who I'm sure lick their boots." She saw the third staying quiet and asked, "And who is your father?"

"Lord Lofar," she quietly replied. "I don't want to marry, but will be forced to wed one of the old dwarves. I've only seen one Durin our age and he isn't a warrior at all."

"You won't have to worry about marrying Prince Thorin, Lambi," Verdi stated with authority. I've been assured the king likes my healthy stature and is confident I'll produce at least half dozen strong sons."

"How will the Durin's know you're pregnant?" Lióni couldn't believe the jealously in her tone. She had no claim on him and his bare sweat covered chest flashed through her mind.

"Ha, very funny," Verdi replied disdainfully. "And what is your little name."

"You'll find out sooner or later. I'm Lióni and my great grandfather was best friend of King Thrór and his chief advisor. That's the title Lord Balin now holds." She had satisfaction of seeing envy in their faces.

"The king will never choose you," Byrta avowed haughtily.

* * *

Further down the market, Lári was having a similar experience, only with their mothers.

"Lári, I saw your husband and son from our position. Why on Middle Earth, did the king allow them to come?" Colna, Lambi's mother asked with just the right amount of scorn and doubt. She was also with Verdi and Byrta's mothers. They formed a click years before in the Iron Hills and were determined their daughters marry Durin's.

"King Thráin will rightfully defend the honor of Durin's," Lári replied as if they were dense. "Why my mother saw once King Thrór wipe the arena with the ranking lord from the White Mountains for talking back to him." She was happy to have her roots in the mountain to fall back on. She knew these three never set foot inside the mountain until recently.

"But your lass isn't full Longbeard blood," Brigda, Byrta's mother almost whispered. "Surely Thráin won't dilute the Longbeard linage?"

"But it was his son, Thorin Oakenshield who came for our daughter." She shrugged of the small white lie. "He was already caught outside the protected halls of Jötunheim alone with my daughter, Lióni."

"Your daughter must be loose to let an unbound dwarf escort her alone, prince or not," the third dam was heard from with her nasally tone.

"Now, Verdi," Colna chastised with an ersatz frown, "they thought Thorin was king, and wouldn't tell the king no."

All three laughed.

"To think that King Thráin was forced to trick your husband into coming," Verda chortled, her huge belly shaking like a bowl of pudding.

"And if Thorin weds my daughter, all your schemes and plans will be for naught," Lári smugly retorted.

They fell silent and Brigda crossly accused, "I wouldn't put it past you to spike Thorin's wine with peyot root to soften his stony heart."

"Lióni is more than capable of bringing Thorin to life and without an aid like it was rumored you and Verda both had to use upon finding a dwarf to wed."

Verda's face burned red in remembrance.

"Look," Colna pointed and they all followed her finger. "Dáin Ironfoot is in the market." Without warning, she led the charge to intercept him.

Lári was going in that direction, but held back from the others, although close enough to eavesdrop.

"Lord Dáin," Verda cooed and with a bold move, touched his arm. "You poor thing, how are you this morning?"

Dáin tried not to knock the offending hand off, but did step back, for the dams were crowding him. He knew if Azie was at his side, they would remain a polite distance. "Fine," he growled and went to move around them, but was grabbed next by Colna.

"I saw you looking at wares dams favor. Do let me help you find the perfect gift for Azie."

He pierced her with a sharp look. "What makes ye think I'm shoppin for my WIFE?" He let the last word ring loud. "I have ah lass also."

"Even better. We have our daughters with us and they are looking for jewelry from Erebor for their dowries," Verda purred. "Perhaps your lordship could point out your favorite pieces."

Dáin looked around for help. He spotted Dóvad's wife and pushed through the three Iron Hills dams and approached her. "Ye don't look ta be with them. Perhaps ye could help me."

Lári respectfully didn't grab him, but smirked over her shoulder. "I'm assuming you are trying to worm your way back into Azie's good graces?"

He grinned at her perceptiveness. "Aye, ye heard what I said." They moved to another table sporting jewelry this time. "Thráin suggested I don't go home without something pretty." He looked and the vendor figured he had a sale and bowed his head in respect.

"Does Azie have a lot of jewelry?" Lári asked.

"Some, but we were cut off from the mountain for ah long time. I think something for her an my daughter will go ah long way in making amends." He spotted a ruby and diamond necklace and matching bracelet. He scooped them up and looked at the quality and then the vendor. "This is some of your father's work, Rinid."

The lapidary nodded. "King Thráin is allowing me ta sell ah few pieces. I will have ah private showing when all the lords arrive an ye will be allowed ta choose first. I need money ta buy more gems, so King Thráin chose what I could put on display." He pointed to four items. "These are all Father's an the rest mine."

Lári saw the blue diamond barrette and knew it would look beautiful in Lióni's light hair. "How much for this?" She pointed to it.

"Fifteen gold coin," he told her.

She fished her precious coin and counted. Then she turned to Dáin, "I'm sorry. I got so excited to own some of Lord Hónid's work, I didn't wait for you to choose. I'm sure Lord Rinid will allow me to put the coin for another piece if you want this for your daughter or wife."

Dáin smiled kindly at her and picked it up for closer inspection. "I think this will catch Thorin's eye if seen in your daughter's hair." He tossed it to Rinid, who slipped it into a soft velvet sack and gave it to her. Dáin handed the necklace and bracelet to Rinid. "I'll take these an this," he scooped an emerald and diamond diadem up. Azie will look good in this an Aneh was promised fancy jewelry if she did well in her studies. I'll make sure she understands who Hónid is an its worth. Put is on my tab." Thanking Rinid, he moved to a booth that caught his eye when he first entered the market area.

It was owned by a Longbeard from Jötunheim he didn't know.

Lári wasn't sure if she should accompany him or continue with her shopping until he turned and motioned her over. He scowled at the three dams still trailing and gawking, but didn't tell them to leave.

"Do you know the quality of his work?" He pointed to the vendor.

"Excellent quality." Lári smiled at the dwarf, "Master Bek, how are you?"

"Lady Lári, I am delighted ta be here an was just ah babe in arms when taken from this mountain. It's ye we are worried about." He threw a cautious glance at Dáin and looked back at her. "Are they treating ye alright?"

"They are very kind to us. What did you bring?"

"Since I had ta pack light, I only brought things I could pack into duffels. I figure young uns will be born an need blankets an gowns, so limited my stock ta baby apparel."

Dáin picked up a thick fleece blanket with a knitted pattern on one side of a ram in full curl. "I'm sure my next will be ah boy, so am safe getting this for him." He tossed down two gold coins when the vendor held two fingers up.

"I'm sure a girl will be just as warm in it," Lári assured him.

"I don't know. When Aneh was born, Azie wouldn't use one thing that belonged to my eldest, Thorin. She insisted only girl items be used. If I have ah girl, I will hold this for Thorin's first."

"Your son?" she asked.

He grinned. "Nay, Oakenshield."

"Do you know who the king is favoring for him?" Lári braved the question and saw the other dams crowd around them, feigned discreetness forgotten.

Dáin's blue eyes twinkled. "The one that doesn't annoy him." He laughed and quickly departed.

"If you dams will excuse me, I was on an errand." Lári, turned and motioned for Lióni to catch up and hastened to a booth selling textiles.


	36. 36 End Game In Sight

Azie kept eyes on her knitting when Dáin walked softly into their home without stomping his heavy boots for once. He was relieved to see her alone and not surrounded by dams wanting to eavesdrop, or worse, take his Warhammer to him. What he didn't know is Theri volunteered to oversee their laundry to give the quarreling couple time to mend their rift. Aneht stayed in her room and stitched Durin crest embroidery on diapers.

"I owe ye an apology for what I said last night," he softly started what he hoped was a genial conversation.

Azie felt tears burn her eyes and kept them lowered. "You were harsh, Dáin."

"Ye made me look like ah fool," he got to what bothered him.

She raised her head and met his blue eyes with her own lighter shade. "I shouldn't have attended. Don't worry; I won't leave these chambers until the baby is here. My emotions always get the better of me when I'm packing your dwarfling." A tear rolled down along the side of her nose.

Dáin sighed. "Ye are three for three now. I was hoping ye would get through one pregnancy without playing the role of martyr."

Her eyes blazed with anger in a flash a knitting needle with much alacrity tried to find his hard head. He snagged it easily with his free hand; the other firmly planted behind his back holding his gifts.

"You Son of Smaug, get out of here," she screeched so loud, her mother-in-law heard from her chambers.

The older dam shook her head. "I don't know who's to blame this time; Azie or that Durin clod of mine she married," she muttered under her breath just as the door flung open and a crying Azie entered. "He called me a martyr for offering to stay away from everyone until my emotions are under control." She wiped her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief.

Aneht stood and put her sewing down. "Stay here and I'll have words with my idiotic son."

Dáin was pacing, having tossed the gifts on the table when she silently entered and observed him. He really wanted to forget the rest of the day and go for ale. Seeing his mother, he snapped. "I will volunteer ta fight the next orc army single handed, but don't ever expect me ta try an please ah dam again. I'm advising Thorin, both of them, ta run from yer gender."

Aneht quietly let him rant. When he finished, she pointed to the door. "I'll pack your things and you can move in with your soldiers. Azie's been sick every day with YOUR baby, while you get the fancy title of Durin and have equally stupid dwarves at your beck and call. If you want a place in these rooms, you will apologize to your wife and pamper her just a little. You like the pleasure of making dwarflings, but shirk being a loving husband worse than any dwarrow I've ever met and you shame your father and me. Your father was very good to me when I carried you. I know for a fact Thráin doted on Lis while carrying each of their dwarflings. You are old enough to remember of our trips to the mountain during those days. I know you were handed the title of lord of the Iron Hills while a young warrior, but you already sired a son, so should have known how to act from your father."

Dáin had flashbacks and knew he was out of line. "Where is she?" He spoke quietly leaving Aneht without doubt her words still carried weight.

"Why don't you wait for her in your chambers. I'll send her to you."

He gathered the gifts off the table and hurried to wait his wife.

Azie was tired and her mother-in-law told her to go and lie down so she didn't upset the baby.

"Aneh will be back soon from her lessons with Ori," Azie protested.

"I'll see to her," Aneht promised.

So with thoughts of sleep, she entered her bedchamber. It was large with an attached water closet and many walk in closets for clothes and personal items. There was a balcony that overlooked the stables, Dale and Ravenhill. She was surprised to see her husband waiting and looking sheepish. He had his armor off down to a tunic and pants, with his knee high boots shinning in the glimmer of gas lights.

"Let's start again," he offered softly and approached her. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her neck. "I'm sorry for not supporting ye like ah good husband should."

She dropped her head against his shoulder arm squeezing his middle. "I can't control my emotions and it's driving me crazy. I won't forget to take the herb that keeps dams from getting in this condition. What with the move, I was slothful and here we are, almost too old for ah baby."

"I for one am glad ye forgot," Dáin murmured into her ear. "I brought ye ah gift ta say I'm sorry." He pulled out of her arms and snagged an engraved wooden box off the table.

She opened. "This is gorgeous, Dáin," she gasped.

"Some of Hónid's final work," he admitted. "I hope ye don't mind, but I had Dóvad's wife, Lári, help. I ran into the wolf pack an used her as ah buffer."

Azie let anger enter her blue eyes. "They wouldn't think twice about becoming O-zalafaurkhas."

"Since it will never be with me, I would do the honor of removing their heads."

Mollified, she spotted the blanket and reached for it. "This is beautiful, but I will send you for another if we have a daughter."

He laughed, "That's exactly what I told Lári."

"What do you think of her?" Azie was curious.

"She didn't try an undress me in the middle of the market, so I like her."

"I think she would fit in with the dams of Durin's. Do you have any opinions on her daughter, Lióni?" Azie took the bag Dáin dropped into her hand while she was talking.

"That's ah little something from me ta my daughter," he admitted.

She pulled out the beautiful necklace and bracelet. "You have the Durin good taste."

"The lass Lióni has spirit, but I'll let Thorin decide what he thinks about her. I'm not the one with the daunting task of wading through so many females."

Azie set the diadem on her head and looked in the mirror.

Dáin moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. Looking over her shoulder, he asked, "Can we make up proper in bed?"

She smiled back at him in their reflections and removed her diadem and everything else.

* * *

A horn sounded deep in the woods once again bringing the long caravan to a halt. Thranduil and Celeborn blocked the trail, while sitting on mounts directly in the road.

Elrond turned to look behind him at Galadriel. "Did you warn him?"

Galadriel replied, but kept her eyes on Celeborn. "No, I wanted to surprise him."

"He knows we're here," Glorfindel announced. "I saw the scouts three days ago. They must be under orders not to engage."

Celeborn scowled at his wife. "Hervess-nín, you better have one excellent excuse to bring our daeriell once again into danger." He spoke in Sindarin, but Thorin managed to make out his sentence.

"She wished to see the wonders of Erebor," Galadriel calmly answered in Westron as if giving a weather report.

"Just hope she makes the halls," he thundered and spun his horse, starting back the way he raced minutes before. Seeing for himself his beloved granddaughter traveled with them filled his fëa with rage.

Thranduil maneuvered his elk beside Círdan. "What brings you this far east?"

"Oh, I haven't been this way since the War of the Alliance," Círdan sagely replied. "I am seeing too many of your realm seeking ships. I am here partly to assess your numbers of warriors."

Thranduil mentally cursed the intuition of the old elf. "I may be running short, but pulled my borders ever closer to my halls. They aren't patrolling my south lands or the north. Celeborn loaned me several hundred."

"To the detriment of his own lands I'm sure," Círdan quipped sarcastically.

Riding his pony not far behind, Thorin glared at Thranduil's back.

* * *

Legolas traveled near the back of the caravan, both to cover their rear flanks and avoid his father. He was sure word that he was in the party reached the king before he waylaid the caravan, or his father would have strong words of their performance. Late that night as he sat in his self-appointed sentry location his fëa brushed against a presence. "I'm here as a favor to the lady," he spoke softly.

"My halls are bereft of warmth and hollow of meaning. Galadriel and Círdan threatened me if I so much as ruffled one silken hair on your head. You managed to get them on your side with speed that is impressive."

"I'm not on anyone's side. I was asked to lead Lady Galadriel's entourage and insure her warriors had a leader, since all of note traveled with Lord Celeborn in preparation for another battle. I didn't expect to come this way for many years."

"Still, you are welcome in my halls whenever you decide to come home."

Legolas felt the fëa depart and sat in thought. It went better than he hoped, but still held a fair amount of distrust his father was sincere.

* * *

Four days later, Thorin led his dwarves from the dank forest and they saw the Lonely Mountain shining like a beacon of welcome, standing tall against a blue background. He looked up and saw ravens circling and gave a nod and wave. Two broke off and made a beeline to the mountain and he knew within an hour his father would know he was close.

Elves moved from the path and let returning dwarves gaze in awe.

Gróin sank to his knees and cried in a loud voice, "Mahal, thank ye. The dream ye gave me the first night Smaug came on the burning planes outside Dale came true. Ye brought me home ta die."

Thorin and Garad helped the old Durin to his feet.

"I see nobody has repaired the stone bridge," Gróin commented when his eyes beheld the way they always traveled in ages past.

"We will see to it," Thorin promised. "Since I went by way of Thranduil's dungeon, I didn't pass this way."

Thranduil smirked down at him from atop his elk. "I have a barrel for you to shoot the rapids again, Princeling Thorin."

Glorfindel scoured every dene within a day's travel. He was sure the ravens would give notice should orc or warg be present. He nodded to Elrond that they should proceed and led the way across the bridge fording River Running.

It took all day for the long caravan to cross the mighty river. Three miles north, Elrond called for them to halt for the night. He gathered all dwarven leaders to his campfire. "The elves are leaving tonight. We will travel through the woods to Thranduil's halls and meet up north of Long Lake. You know the way home from here."

"Is there a reason you are departing?" Thorin asked, a cold chill settling in his backbone. He caught Elrond's eye and understood. "You are letting them see we are without elven protection. We are the bait for your trap."

"You will make a wise king when your turn comes again," Círdan sagely answered.

"Our scouts say your way is clear for the next two days. However, you might be ambushed near the rocks along Long Lake and beyond. We will take our warriors and come in from the north through Dale." When Celeborn softly spoke, everyone hushed to hear his words. "There we will gather men and King Thráin's army."

"Want to place a bet that my father will be leading them?" Thorin asked Celeborn soberly.

A general chuckle flowed outwards from the fire.

"I watched your father fight the last battle. No, I'm not losing any coin to you," Celeborn abruptly stated and moans from the dwarven contingency was heard.

Thorin smirked at the great elf lord.

* * *

A long mournful blast sounded the arrival of elves. Balin threw his pen into a cup and rushed from his office and down the hall to where King Thráin held a private meeting with respective kings from Dale and the far southland Edoras of the Rohan.

Bard straightened at the sound. "Are we under attack?"

Thráin listened. "That would be arrivals from the halls of Thranduil."

Fengel snorted in distain. "I for one am not impressed with the great lord Celeborn, nor his cousin, Thranduil."

Thráin ever so slightly smirked, so only Bard caught the tick in his face. "What do ye know about elves?"

"That they think they own these lands," Fengel snapped in irritation. "They stay secluded in their communities and never mingle blood with us mortals."

"I believe Lord Elrond comes from mixed blood," Thráin countered. "I for one am glad they are our allies, for if ye think Sauron is bad, being the enemy of an elf is much worse. Orcs are slow an clumsy, breaking branches on the ground ta sound their location. An elf would kill ye before ye knew he was near."

Balin burst through the office door. "Ori was taking his turn on the rampart for when ah raven came with a message. He didn't need a messenger when he saw an entire army of elves rounding the walls of Dale."

The large horn sounded and Thráin stood. "I will forgo bringing the elves ta my throne an greet them myself." He led the way to the entrance and motioned for the doors to be opened. Flanked with the two human kings and hastily called lords, he was stunned when the lady of the wood entered his kingdom upon her white charger.

Thráin noted her position beside Lady Arwen was behind all elven lords of note. Her face brightened with a trademark smile when she spotted him and their eyes met.

"Welcome to the kingdom of Erebor," he roared above the din of horses, elves and gathering dwarves.

The Company quickly gathered behind their king. Dáin pushed through bodies until standing at the left of Thráin. Young Thorin did likewise until at his father's left.

Galadriel dismounted and saw her assigned guard placing a hand on Rohirrim's mane to keep him in place and comfort him mentally.

Before Galadriel, Círdan dismounted, knowing the brightness of the lady shrouded his appearance. He laid a warm hand on Arwen's shoulder and pushed her gently aside so he faced Thráin, elf to dwarf.

Dáin and the Company looked surprised when their own king bowed to this strange dwarf. Their curiosity was assuaged when Thráin spoke. "Lord Círdan, master of the seas, welcome to my halls. As you displayed compassion in our suffering, let me repay and we will sing songs of victory over Smaug together."

Círdan nodded his head in acceptance and looked around. "When I found you in Dunland, starving and threadbare, I never dreamed you left such riches."

"I tried to explain," Thranduil interrupted.

"Lad, you and nobody could explain the wonders of Erebor," Círdan patiently replied. He looked back to the king. "May I impose on your kindness for a tour when Thorin is safe in these halls?"

"Aye, I personally will take all who've never graced my halls on ah tour ye won't soon forget," Thráin agreed and turned to Galadriel. He bowed low and saw her curtsey in exchange.

"You are a survivor, King Thráin," Galadriel proclaimed and silence descended on the halls, so all could catch her words. "You did invite us to your halls."

Thráin grinned openly. "Aye, my lady, an I'm happy ta have ye an yer beautiful granddaughter visit. My servants, as we speak, make rooms fit for ah queen."

Celeborn snorted, drawing all eyes to him. "My lady will tent with me outside your walls."

"No, Celeborn," Galadriel countered and everyone could see a showdown sparking. "King Thráin trusted our hospitality and we will accept his." She turned back to the dwarf king. "My granddaughter, Arwen, and I accept your offer. I'm sure the ellon will escape to their lonely tents, pondering the mischief two elleth capable."

"You and my daughter will sleep in tents surrounded by our guards," Elrond demanded and turned to Thráin. "We will not impose on your hospitality with so many pouring into your halls, and I overrule my mother-in-law in this matter."

Thráin looked amused at the tall elf lord. "I didn't know ye were the more powerful."

"I have assistance in the form of her irate husband. She is no match for us both."

"I will acquiesce this once, Elrond," Galadriel submitted.

Thráin pushed between Elrond and Celeborn and approached one so fair. "Lady Arwen, ye honor me by wearing yer gift."

"This is the finest diadem I now own and the box of gems will complete my wedding attire. If you still live when I wed, consider this a personal invite."

"Done, Lass," Thráin cried enthusiastically.

Galadriel threw a glance at her husband and reached to place her soft, white fingers on his outstretched hand. _'I trust him, Celeborn. He is nothing but honest.'_

' _He is a treacherous dwarf.'_ Celeborn protested into her mind, but didn't move a facial muscle.

"My lords and ladies," a voice boomed out and everyone turned to see Gandalf hailing them. "I would have greeted you properly, but the warm underground rivers beckoned me to taste their seduction." He still had wet hair and looked to have hastily thrown on his robes.

Thráin sighed and turned to the ladies of Elrond and Celeborn. "Gandalf won't allow me to risk my army before needed."

"Thráin," Gandalf bellowed and once again the entrance chamber fell silenced. "if elves are here, your son is close and now is the time to muster your forces."

"Give me of your wisdom, Gandalf," Thráin meekly suggested. "I would not have my son fight another battle just ta return ta his birth place. Where are the forces of Sauron?"

Gandalf pushed through dwarves until towering over the king and looked upon the elves he'd known for an age with a smile of greeting and delight to see Círdan this far east. He laid a gnarled hand on the king's shoulder. "There is one more battle to get Thorin and the others safely into these halls. I won't lie to you."

"And I wished them to slip in under darkness of night. Can they still do so?" Thráin asked the wizard, seemingly forgetting the elves.

Gandalf gave pause. "I don't think so, Thráin," he soberly gave his advice. "Sauron is waiting with the remnants of his army and the Nazgûl. They would be slaughtered traveling strung out at night." He looked around. "Bring the elves and dwarves of note to your private chambers. There we will meet and plan. Are you keeping Lord Dóvad and his son locked up for this important battle? He should be leading the warriors of Jötunheim and his son is a formable fighter from what his people say."

Thráin looked to Dáin, "Fetch Dóvad ta the meeting."

Dáin slapped Dwalin on the shoulder and the two departed quickly.

"We will have formal introductions in the war chamber," Thráin decreed. "Lord Elrond, I will leave the selecting of elves ta ye, but I wouldn't leave the Witch of the Goldenwood out or she might challenge ye on bragging rights as most powerful elf."

Elrond grinned. "I assure you, all invited to the meeting know who they are without a formal invite."

Thranduil mentally gave the silent order. _'Everyone not ranking lord or lady, depart these halls and set our camp on the river between here and Dale. That way we can protect both.'_

To the dwarves and men, it looked the elves knew exactly what to do without instruction.

Fengel wondered if he could get his army trained like elves and Bard knew a silent communication was issued, but not which lord gave it." He would inquire as to who was powerful enough to order all elves about.

* * *

Thorin looked warily about. Two days before they exited the safety of the trees and now were working along the east edge of Long Lake. Stopping for the night was met with nets and fishing lines hoping to haul enough catch to offset their meager fare of dried jerky. Tonight fires roared and fish stew bubbled in hundreds of pots. Thorin walked the length of the caravan and shook his head when dams tried to entice him to their fires for a bite of food. He looked at the ever closing mountain and knew with one hard push, they could be home by midnight the next night, or two days of leisure travel. He watched the ravens fly, but none landed, so he figured all was well. Little did he know, the ravens were under strict orders to report only to the mountain.

* * *

Thráin rapped his knuckle dusters on the table drawing all talking to a close. "First, I want to welcome our elven allies and friends to Erebor."

The present Company and lords applauded until Thráin raised his hand. "I know elves capable of remembering names the first time introduced, so I'll start to my right and Lord Balin." One by one, he called out names, their title and place of origin before the mountain and if Blacklock. By the time he finished, Dáin and Dwalin entered with another dwarf between them.

"Just in time," Thráin announced. "Only a few might not know Lord Dáin Ironfoot of the Iron Hills." He pointed to the ginger haired dwarf. And my general, Lord Dwalin and brother to Lord Balin.

Dwalin glared at everyone, trying to intimidate, but figured he didn't scare one elf, not even the lass. His eyes widened at the tall, svelte female elf of long golden locks. _'No wonder Thráin rambled at length on her appearance,'_ he thought before letting his eyes move to the next elf, a bearded one at that.

"Lord Dóvad," Thráin moved the meeting along. "Are you ready to apologize and swear allegiance to the crown and oath to protect and serve Erebor?"

"Aye, King Thráin." Dóvad sank to one knee and stared the king in the eye. "I swear to serve you and all Durin's. On behalf of my dwarflings and ill-conceived first meeting, I apologize and it won't happen again. But most of all; I'm ashamed I disparaged your honor at Azanulbizar. I know you fought bravely and would never sell your soul for life."

All the while he spoke, Thranduil kept a silent running diatribe. _'Sniveling coward, tell Thráin you decided his dungeon was preferable to groveling like a worm. Why even Thorin showed backbone when in my kingdom and refused to deal with what he thought a trader king. I hope your daughter weds the princeling and you have to remain here all your days and lose your hole in the ground in the Orocarni…'_

' _I have foreseen Lord Dóvad's daughter doing just that,"_ Galadriel interrupted.

Thranduil smiled at her. _'He will sleep with one eye open like I did.'_

Círdan flicked his wrist and Thranduil felt a pain in his side. He glared at the offender. _'I wish to hear this.'_

Thranduil rubbed his side, but shut up.

"Rise and take your place as my lord. Time will tell if you return to Jötunheim as its ruler, or remain as father to the queen." Done with formal speech, he was pleased to hear Dóvad put forth the effort in return. He looked to Bard and Fengel. "These are our two human kings volunteering their meager warriors to our effort. You will both be rewarded for the effort."

Fengel perked up at the thought of gaining dwarven coin.

Galadriel gazed upon the one who harmed her beloved. Her face remained neutral, but she silently commanded, _'Keep that oaf from me or I my ring will not show restraint.'_

The elves gave one quick uniform smile and all eyes were on Fengel.

Bard caught the smile and their eyes. He leaned close to Fengel. "You made an enemy of all elves. Watch your back."

Fengel only saw serene expressions on the elves, almost as if they were bored. "I made up with them. Why I will tell Celeborn's wife personally I'm sorry for harming her husband." Although whispering, the keen hearing of the elves caught every word. Fengel saw a golden haired male, he assumed, drilling holes in his direction. To his shock the face illuminated a white-gold, much like Celeborn's sword. "Who is that?"

Bard followed the eyes. "Someone who died thousands of years ago."

Fengel discreetly laughed. "Now, I know you're pulling my leg." They turned attention back to the dwarves.

Elrond and Thráin spoke for their races and the elf lord had no problem ordering Fengel like he was a serf upon hearing the harm brought to his father-in-law. It was determined the men would protect Dale and keep a guard with their horn signaling location of the enemy. Between Dale and Erebor blasting with horns to where orcs clustered; they figured a route of the enemy to be swift.

"Just so ye know, I'm leading all dwarven armies, like I did at Azanulbizar." He knew no Durin would object publically and grinned at them.

Celeborn remembered Thorin's prediction and was glad he didn't offer a wager of coin against the prince.

Elrond nodded his acceptance for all elves that they agreed with his decision and ignored Thranduil's inaudible, _'All elves surround Thráin and keep that imbecilic son of his off the throne.'_

' _I feel the same way about being on your throne,'_ Legolas, from his place beside the twins at the rear of the elves, finally spoke to his father.

"They will be here in two days," Thráin ended. He watched while elves and dwarves mingled with satisfaction that his dreams all those long years in captivity coming to fruition. Elves and dwarves were friends and working together.

* * *

Dwalin looked at the tiny campfires along the east shores of Long Lake. He was on guard and head Durin for the night shift. He knew Thorin was among the lights that looked like fireflies in the far distance. A shadow crossed his vision and he looked up. In the dark, he could hear the swooshing of wings and wondered if the great eagles were flying cover and keeping guard. He shifted his gaze to the elven camp and saw warriors running about, so knew the flying object wasn't an eagle. Then he remembered in the meeting; the elves explaining Nazgûl and the beasts they rode. He wondered if the attack was happening two days out so they couldn't get to them in time. Thinking wasn't his best subject and he wished Balin didn't put him in charge this night. He needed help and motioned with sign to a guard to fetch Balin.


	37. 37 Little Sister

A guard straightened to attention when Dóvad with Lord Balin at his side approached his new chambers. Balin rapped on the door and they waited.

Lióni was closest and answered, seeing her father last thing on her mind. She threw herself into his arms and felt his comforting arms encircle her back.

"I'll leave you to it," Balin cheerfully stated and departed while Lióni dragged her father into their new home.

"Look who is here," she called out and relinquished her place to her mother.

Kissing him soundly, Lári asked, "How come they released you?"

"I haven't had ah drink in days, so if ye don't mind, I'll wet my parched throat first."

Risári was already pouring ale when she saw him being dragged in and thrust it into his hand. They watched as he downed the first mug and belched loudly. Handing it back for a refill, he took a rocker before a large fireplace.

"Where is Tóvad?" Lári asked before he could speak.

"Cooling his heals in jail yet. He hasn't got the brains of ah gnat," Dóvad complained. "The lad wants ta test his mettle against one of the young Durin's before having ta take ah knee. I pledged loyalty an apologized ta the king this afternoon, so am restored as lord of Jötunheim."

"I'm relieved," Lári replied.

"I hope we get to see Tóvad wipe the floor with a Durin," Lióni crowed in delight.

"Ye are aware Durin's be graced with special physical strength?" Dóvad reminded her.

She harrumphed as if not caring and changed the subject. "Is the army going to meet the caravan?"

"Aye, Lass. We leave before dawn."

"Can I go in Tóvad's stead?" she pleaded, but tried to have a strong voice.

When Dóvad was silent a little too long, Lári filled the silence. "Don't you dare take her."

Dóvad shifted his gaze to that of his concerned wife. "She can stay beside me an get one real battle under her belt. I'm sure that will take care of her pleading ta join warriors in battle." At his wife's shocked expression, he added, "And it is partly my fault she is this way."

"There is going to be trolls and Ringwraiths and you let her play at soldiering. Any harm befall our daughter, you will return to Jötunheim alone." She was in shock, not understanding her husband and wondered if a stay in the dungeon didn't addle his brain.

"It won't matter then for I'll be dead before ah hair on her head is harmed," he assured her, but inside felt like a fool. He turned to his daughter. "Go and rest. Dress for battle, but don't don yer armor until I call for ye." He watched her hurry down a hall. Turning back to the dams, he asked, "Are ye lady's giving me ah tour?"

* * *

Thráin let Picket close the door to his private chambers late that night. He entertained elves until midnight and watched them ride into the night to their camp. His blood was warm with wine, but his thoughts on his son. Knowing sleep was far off, he grabbed a book Elrond sent and settled into his chair by a fire stoked by his faithful servant.

 _Little Sister_

" _Keep your fingers at the corner of your mouth and aim with your left hand. Line up and release."_

 _The little arrow zipped across the room and into a stuffed rabbit._

" _You will eat tonight," Ríllas exclaimed happily._

" _When will I get to hunt real rabbits?" Fifteen year old Arwen asked, her blue eyes large in her pixie face._

" _In a few years. It is much different drawing down on a real target and you wouldn't want to only wound it would you?" Ríllas wisely asked in return._

 _Arwen shook her head. "I guess I do need more practice." She beamed when her brothers entered the family chambers. Running to the rabbit, she held it up proudly."_

 _Elladan, with a huge smile, took the ragged stuffed animal, with many holes already in its fur hide, looked at the hole with arrow still protruding. Handing it to Elrohir, he scooped Arwen in his strong arms. "You get consistent shots like that from various angles and distances and we will pull some fish from our stocked pond and place them in a barrel for you."_

" _If I get that good, I can shoot them in the pond," she cockily replied and looked at her rabbit proudly._

" _And you will miss your first fish," Elrohir took her from his brother for his own hug._

" _Will not."_

" _What do you want to bet?" Elrohir challenged her as he set small feet on the floor._

 _Arwen thought of something she could do. "It would be funny to see you embroider a handkerchief. If I win, you have to do an entire design, in the evenings in front of Ada and Nana."_

 _Elladan started laughing._

" _No you don't," his brother threatened, clearly reading his mind. "She can't be coached." He held his hand out. "Shake and It's a deal."_

 _Ríllas smiled wickedly. In the making of the bet, they didn't swear her to honor._

 _Arwen grabbed her big brother's hand and pumped furiously. Grabbing her rabbit, she pulled the arrow. "When is our bet?"_

" _When you can shoot from the top of the stairs across the foyer and dining hall and hit a rabbit I will place on the edge of the balustrade. He grabbed the tattered stuffed rabbit back. "Right here," he showed where it had to be. "In fact, when you're ready, I'll make you a new rabbit to shoot so there won't be any holes. When you get that good, we will shoot fish."_

 _Arwen's eyes went large. She never hit anything from that distance yet. "I need to practice outside then. That's the longest spans in the house."_

 _Elrohir held out his hand for her to take. "Come, we will set up a target now. I know just the place with a like angle." He hurried her away, knowing Erestor would soon be looking for them to go with him and oversee the draining of the sewer pits. Elrond made mention it was time to insure winter's buildup was washed out. He was looking at the twins when he made the statement and I made an offhand remark that the twins never enjoyed that chore before and thus their education just increased._

 _Ríllas smirked at Elladan. "Sometimes your brother really is smarter than you."_

" _Elrohir?" Elladan snorted in disdain._

" _Aw, there you are. Get your brother and we'll ride to the holding ponds," I ordered. I knew the twins were hiding from me so made a show of saddling my horse so they could sneak back into their chambers. A couple well placed spies confirmed my guess._

" _I'll go get him right now," Elladan quickly responded and got all of three steps to the door when Ríllas stopped him._

" _Elrohir is helping Arwen with her archery. Elladan is free to join you." She looked so innocent._

" _I just rememb…," he trailed off when I grabbed his arm._

" _You just remembered you are coming with me." With a grin to Ríllas, I escorted Elladan from the room._

* * *

" _Orc," Elladan screamed and threw a bowl of greens across the table and doused his brother, who deflected the bowl and it flew into the middle of the dining hall and shattered on the stone floor._

 _Elrohir, looked at the mess and started laughing, tossing leafs of greens back in a playful manner. All around him on the floor were leafs for servants to clean up._

 _We were eating in the main dining hall and a meeting was in progress for trade over the Misty Mountains. King Thranduil and Queen Ríllas agreed to come because of Arwen's youth and Elrond didn't want a repeat of disaster that befell the twins at her age. Celeborn and Galadriel were still in residence and persuaded King Amroth to stop wooing Nimrodel for a summer and attend his kingdom's business. King Ostoher made a hurried trip up from Gondor and the dwarf, King Fróin, completed the list. He rode his ram with a small group in the company of Amroth and Ostoher, so they arrived together._

 _All talking stopped and Elrond's face went red in suppressed rage, although his countenance remained expressionless._

 _Fróin burst out laughing. "Lad, ye two are very adept at Khuzdul signing an this is the sign for orc." He held his hand up with thumb and index finger in a circle and then took the index finger and tapped down twice. "But jumping an shouting worked also for my amusement, as I was following your conversation with enjoyment."_

 _Glorfindel was, as usual, grinning and Celeborn covered his mouth with his napkin once again._

" _Do we want to know why two grown elves can't control themselves at my table?" Elrond asked in a tone that demanded an explanation._

 _Elladan knew he was going to be punished and glared, first at his brother and then his father. "If you hadn't entertained the idea of us learning all about cesspits, I wouldn't be doused in fragrant bathing oils."_

" _So your lack of control is my fault?" Elrond deadpanned and everyone at the table could see Elladan's punishment worsening at every word the youth uttered._

" _I wouldn't be alone," he pointed at Elrohir, "but that one skipped out on the assignment. I insist you send him alone next time."_

 _This time laughter rebounded around the table, except from the complaining elf and his father._

" _King Fróin caught you both signing in the language of the dwarves. When I taught you, it was for silent communication if around a fell being like Sauron. I now regret doing so. You both will tell us your communication."_

 _The smirk dropped off Elrohir's face. "I may have commented that Elladan smelled like that house in Bree we walked by where those three half naked women tried to proposition us."_

" _Exact words," Elrond commanded and all knew Elrohir just joined his brother in punishment._

 _Elrohir looked at his offending fingers. "You smell like a visit to a human whorehouse."_

 _Celeborn didn't bother with the napkin to hide amusement and joined Glorfindel with a wide grin and dancing blue eyes._

 _I, Erestor, felt bad for the boys, but joined in the laughter._

" _And you replied with?" Elrond kept the conversation moving._

" _You would rather play dolls with our little sister than do an honest day's work."_

 _Elrond's eyes shifted back to Elrohir, as did everyone's at the table._

" _I find Arwen doesn't whine half as much as you and takes my superior shooting advice." Elrohir now glared at his brother._

 _Arwen laughed at that._

 _Celebrían placed her hand on the arm of the child sitting between her and I to stop her teasing her brothers and thus being also punished._

 _Elrond motioned with his hand._

 _Elladan reluctantly repeated his insult. "I'm making sure Arwen wins and you have to sit like a stupid elleth, embroidering rags."_

 _Elrohir smirked, for he saw his mother take offense. "Beats, slipping into the settling pond and smelling like you rolled in orc dung."_

 _Elladan looked at his father. "I lost my temper."_

" _We noticed," Elrond replied dryly. "What is this bet about?"_

" _Elrohir and I are having a contest. He says I can't hit a fish in water and I am practicing to show him I can," Arwen jumped into the conversation. "But I have to pass a test."_

" _This ought to be good," I muttered and threw my own glares at her siblings, lest they lead our little princess into harm._

" _It is, Erestor," Arwen laid a small, white hand on my sleeve. "I have to make a long shot and kill a rabbit."_

" _WHAT!" Elrond thundered and Celebrían added her sentiments at the end of the sentence, "She isn't killing anything at her young age."_

 _Galadriel smiled serenely and patted her husband's arm before he threatened his grandsons with corporal abuse. "I shall start work on the rabbit."_

" _Thank you, Daernaneth," Elrohir stated happily. "May I help?"_

" _Yes, you and I will go to the tack room and look for material after we eat, hopefully, without sacrificing another bowl of greens."_

 _Elladan ducked his head, hoping his father's anger dissipated._

" _And Elladan, you will help Erestor all day tomorrow as well," his father decreed._

 _Elladan's shoulders slumped and he nodded, not looking up._

' _Make him miserable,' Elrond spoke narrowly into my mind, knowing only the older elves would hear us, but not the youths._

* * *

 _The meetings continued, but now everyone watched little Arwen shoot her bow and Elrond went so far as to move our place to the section of lawns where she practiced under the tutelage of her brothers._

" _King Fróin, our scouts returned from the Lonely Mountain and are optimistic we can produce enough gold to pay our debt in ten years," Elrond read from a list that I meticulously wrote for him._

" _We need it desperately, Lord Elrond," Fróin honestly declared and we could see his face brighten._

' _I hope it keeps the dwarf from murdering us while we sleep,' Celeborn snapped into elven minds._

 _Thranduil laughed into our minds upon hearing._

 _Elrond raised an eyebrows. 'I don't think dwarves of the third age are as primitive or violent as their predecessors.'_

' _Don't tell them that,' Galadriel warned and they resumed listening to King Ostoher tell Fróin they found a seam of gold in the White Mountains and could part with a small amount._

" _We owe Imladris fifty pounds and if Lord Elrond agrees, we will divert it to you and he can deduct that amount." Ostoher looked expectantly at the lord presiding over his kingdom._

" _That would b…." he was interrupted by Arwen's scream of fear. All the elves jumped up and men and dwarves followed at a split second slower pace and looked to see what frightened the elfling so close to the house. She was obviously terrified and running as fast as she could to us._

 _The twins knocked arrows and raced just as quickly in the opposite direction and Glorfindel shouted, "Elrondiôns, cease or you'll be slaughtered. Let me fight it."_

 _Galadriel swiftly looked into Arwen's mind. 'She saw a shadowy figure on the hill hiding in the bushes as if waiting for prey to blindly use that trail.'_

 _Glorfindel flew on feet of wings to where the twins were pointing. A beast rose from its hidden location to challenge and everyone was stunned an animal could talk. "Twice born, you will die today." With a mighty roar it charged the Balrog slayer on the edge of the lawn that expanded to the high bluffs where it dropped hundreds of feet into the broiling Bruinen. The fight held everyone spellbound, for it was as if watching our beloved Glorfindel fight a Balrog all over again. The fight was fast and brutal, with sword lunging and parring against fangs and claws no mortal animal capable of growing. Glorfindel didn't hold back and Celeborn joined him, welding Faenrúth to slowly defeat this large, raging monster of a bygone age._

 _Only when it died did Elrond sheath his own unused sword and looked close at the black, hairy form. "I didn't know any still lived and thought all were killed in the First Age."_

 _Celeborn still held his bloody sword and wasn't soon to sheath the weapon, for he had seen and fought these foul creatures in the First Age and knew they were almost as hard to put down as a Balrog. "It must come from the mountains of the far north. We never did fully vanquish their kind, but I never figured one would find us or venture this far south."_

" _What is it?" I asked and saw several warrior heads nod. They gathered to watch Glorfindel and Celeborn do battle and it appeared an even match for several long minutes._

 _Glorfindel pulled his sword from the cooling mass. "A pup of Draugluin no doubt."_

 _Gasps were the only sound and then I noticed even birds had taken flight away from this beast._

" _Why now are they emerging?" Elrond snapped, trying to hide fear that his sons now patrolled with them rampaging these lands again._

" _I will ask Lord Manwë tonight when I visit Taniquetil for answers," Glorfindel responded and we could see he was taking this more seriously than anything since he came back to these shores._

 _If we are battling beasts of the First Age once again, I was going to suggest to Elrond that Lady Celebrían take the elflings and flee to the Undying Lands._

 _Nobody was in the mood to finish the meeting this day and Elrond's sons were tasked with disposing of the beast and of course skinned it for a rug to tan and hang on their walls. I knew elves would travel far and wide to view that hide and skull._

 _Elrond and I departed to check on his daughter. Entering the family chambers, we found her sitting on her mother's lap and the lady telling a story about a princess to sooth her frightened fëa. Elrond snagged the elfling from off her mother's lap and set her on his knee. He let his hands glow slightly and felt his strong, soothing fëa comfort her. He noticed Celebrían waited patiently for an explanation and before he could find a way to gently inform her, Celeborn and Galadriel joined us._

" _It was old," Celeborn announced. "Teeth worn down to half their original length. I'm sure that went in our favor."_

" _What was it, Dearadar?" Arwen timidly asked and found herself once again shifted to a different lap._

 _Grandpa Celeborn wasn't letting her slip to another lap and glared at Elrond when he moved to reclaim the most precious among us._

' _I will tell her,' Elrond snapped peevishly into our minds. He looked softly upon his only daughter. "What you saw, even I never witnessed in all my long years."_

" _I fought and killed them," Celeborn interjected and was given a thunderous look by his son-in-law._

" _You see a long time ago before the Valar…,"_

 _Elladan and Elrohir, smeared with blood from skinning their prize, joined us._

" _Adar, that is an enormous hide," Elladan joyfully shouted._

' _Maybe this is a good time to tell them they are sailing,' I quickly spoke into Elrond's mind._

 _Elrond threw another glare in my direction. Looking back to his beloved daughter, he tried again. "Melkor created many different foul beings and some still exist in our age."_

" _One less," Elrohir snorted._

 _Ignoring his second born, Elrond still focused on his baby. "What slipped in under my protection was such a creation."_

" _So much for a girdle at Imladris," Celeborn quipped._

 _Elrond ground his molars. "What you saw is the forerunner of Wargs."_

" _Bigger, meaner and faster," Elladan helpfully added._

" _Even Glorfindel had to work up a sweat to kill it," his brother added, obviously impressed._

" _We thought they were no more." Elrond's shoulders drooped in defeat when he realized he wasn't going to gently tell his daughter of this new menace without help from callous elves who should have known better._

" _Maybe they are no more now." Glorfindel made his presence known. "That one was very old and weak."_

" _Ada," a small voice had everyone focused on her._

" _Yes, my princess?" Elrond asked._

" _What is everyone talking about?"_

" _Werewolves, little sister," Elladan whispered with glee, his eyes alight with mischief._

" _Elfling eating werewolves," Elrohir echoed in the same tone. "It was waiting for you."_

" _THAT'S ENOUGH!," Elrond roared and stood to look his son's in the eyes. "You two will sail to your other daeradar, for I can't take you anymore."_

 _Arwen's already large blue eyes grew almost out of her head. "I don't want to be eaten. That one was the scariest monsters I've ever seen."_

 _Celeborn squeezed her tightly. "Have we ever let you come to harm?"_

" _You did my brothers when just my age," she spouted up at her grandfather and everyone saw and felt him cringe._

" _We learned our lesson," Celebrían spoke and everyone turned to the mother. "Arwen, it was wonderful you warned us about what you saw. It might have harmed your brothers or another member of the community if not for your sharp eyes."_

 _Galadriel smiled her approval._

 _Arwen straightened bravely in her dearadar's arms. "You think that, Nana?"_

" _I know it," Celebrían assured her and then turned a stern look to her sons. "I'm sure you won't mind taking turns at your sister's bedside for the next few months to undo your damage."_

" _We have to patrol, now that a new threat is upon us," Elladan quickly responded, while his brother nodded as if he head would roll off._

" _Celebrían, I assure you both iôns will have patrol of the house until this is a memory," Glorfindel told her._

 _The twins whimpered and I actually laughed aloud._

* * *

 _That night, Thranduil and Ríllas joined the family in our lord's chambers. Elrond conveyed apologies to our guests and told them we would resume talks in the morning._

" _We scoured within ten miles in all directions," Thranduil began._

" _No sign of additional beasts were discovered," Ríllas ended._

" _Thank you, my friends, searching for something that my powers cannot detect," Elrond replied with relief in his voice._

 _Glorfindel joined a late supper in progress. "I couldn't wait for night to come," he explained. "I went and sought an audience with Lord of all Arda. What I fought today was Meglomain, last werewolf in Middle Earth. He was one of the reasons I was sent back. For if an ordinary elf came upon that old werewolf, he and many more would have been slain. The lives lost would have tipped the balance of powers in Middle Earth."_

" _You mean he would have killed my daughter?" Elrond coldly extrapolated._

 _Glorfindel looked him squarely in the eyes. "Yes."_

 _We all looked at the elfling sitting between her mother and grandmother and wondered her fate._

" _He talked," Elladan remembered with awe._

" _Yes werewolves could talk and Lord Manwë confirmed he was sent by Sauron specifically to kill me. Seems I have a small part yet to play in events unfolding."_

" _Try not to be too modest," Elrond snarked and everyone at the table laughed._

* * *

 _Meetings resumed on schedule…._

Thráin placed the bookmark between pages and went to open his own door.

"Thrór never opened his own door," Balin groused. "I could be an assassin. You are getting a night porter."

"Father never opened his own door because I usually did that chore," Thráin quipped right back, but let his chief advisor inside and closed the door from prying ears of the elite guards.

"Dwalin called me to the rampart. From the reaction of the elves, it was a Nazgûl flying over both the camp of the elves and then south to Thorin's band."

"Muster the army. We leave in an hour," Thráin ordered.

Balin bowed his head in respect and quickly departed. Elite guards watched him run down the long hall and knew something big was about to occur. Soon a horn sounded that could be heard all along the halls of Erebor calling all warriors to arms.

Thráin, decked in the most opulent of armor and helmet swung on the boar, whose massive tusks were sheathed in razor sharp blades. He saw Dáin mounted much as he was and the army rolling weaponry pulled by rams. General Lötun was gathering intelligence and motioned over the roar of an army preparing to leave that all was ready.

"Open the gate," Thráin ordered and led several thousand dwarves into the warm night air. He noticed Dwalin never left his side and was riding a like boar.

Second to last detachment to leave was Lord Dóvad's. He was on a boar and instructed Lióni to keep her helmet on so their warriors couldn't tell she was a lass. He motioned for her to mount a ram and stay by his side. He motioned to his lords when they started protesting a warrior oughtn't be so close to the ranking lord. "I've been tasked with protecting young Ori of the Durin's."

That had the lords bowing and backing off. Lióni was glad they didn't know what Ori looked like, but figured they were close in build and coloring.

* * *

Thorin sat by himself in the dark on a rise overlooking one end of the long camp. Between wagons and the lake, animals grazed on verdant grass, resting for another long pull up the incline. They would leave the lake and enter rocky terrain where burned stumps still rotted into piles of wood chips. Now that Smaug was gone pine saplings were already pushing through anyplace their roots gained a foothold. He saw one lone flying object in the light of the moon. In the far distance the horn of Erebor sounded and he knew an eagle wouldn't have raised suspicions. Going with his gut instincts, he jumped up and slid on booted feet down the hill to where dwarves were snoring under wagons. He started kicking bodies. "Make no sound, but get the wagons moving…..silently," he ordered and ran to a ram, saddle in hand from where he placed it over a tongue on the lead wagon. Riding down the line, he gave orders, with the first being, "No, let the ponies pull the wagons. They are no good in a fight and spook too easily."

Within an hour, the long caravan moved with the creaking of wheels that needed grease and repair. Thorin was at the front with Garad at his side and Fili and Kili directly behind. He instructed his uncle Fárin to protect their flanks and rear and had warriors near most wagons on the side away from the lake.


	38. 38 Last Leg

Celeborn and Elrond saw their beloved ladies safely inside the mountain. Without a word, they turned their chargers about and raced away, parting just after the bridge; Celeborn towards Dale and Elrond up the mountain ridge.

"I offer my sanctuary for as long as you need it," Balin, with his ever present smile, bade the elven ladies and their servants welcome.

"I wish we had taken your offer a few hours ago," Galadriel stated and watched the tall doors swing inward. "I am impressed with the carving on the outside of the doors and the identical imaging inside. My mirror showed Thorin overseeing the workers and it is some of the finest crafting I've ever seen in my long life on both sides of the sea. The detail is such one would know them anyplace. A gilded door is everything I expected of Erebor." She spoke sincerely and Balin was no fool. He knew a high complement when he heard one.

"Thank you, milady," Balin answered with pride. "I was humbled Thorin chose the Company to grace forever the entrance to Erebor. I knew he was placing his father in the center for all he suffered."

Galadriel matched his smile and they locked eyes.

"I have quarters in our guest hall for you and yours to rest. I'm sure the battle won't be for many hours and both of you will be escorted to the rampart to watch. Unless we are attacked; then you will be guarded with our finest elite guards." Balin raised his hand, "I'm aware your own guards will remain between you and our guards; as it should be." He saw several elven guards stiffen when he offered his own protection for their ladies.

"We thank your offer of kindness, Lord Balin," Galadriel spoke for all elves, now at the mercy of dwarven kindness. "When the battle begins, I need to be on the rampart. I will engage Sauron's forces and placate my husband at the same time. It was he who insisted we come to you for shelter. And that coming from one who fought dwarves in Menegroth is high praise."

Balin nodded that he understood.

* * *

Earlier, the night watch spotted the foul flying abomination as it crested the eastern hills in the full moonlight. Word passed swiftly until the guards of the inner circle were informed. Glorfindel was awake and sitting on a camp chair outside the entrance to his and Erestor's tent when a guard hustled between stationary guards positioned in front of tents of the lords, spears pointed to the sky and kingdom banners to their left. He pointed to the sky and Glorfindel rose.

' _Elrond, Galadriel, your friends the Nazgûl are here.'_ Glorfindel spoke into their minds and soon Elrond pushed through the flap of his tent and looked to where his General pointed.

Elrond and Thranduil exited tents across from the other at the same time with Círdan and Taíban a step behind. Only Celeborn was still missing. The twins were bunking with their sister this close to the mountain and already saddling everyone's horses. Thranduil mentally called for his steward, Demythel, to blow his horn mustering the warriors. He hoped for a nights rest after the long ride from his halls, but fate convened against him.

Celeborn rolled out of their shared bed and reached for his clothes.

They said farewell to the dwarven king and departed to their tent; completely alone for the first time since seeing her three days prior. Celeborn didn't change the tent structure and allowed his wife and granddaughter to share a tent, while he rested, mostly in the open, but sometimes with Thranduil. He pulled her against his armor and kissed her soundly as soon as the flap was lowered by his servant, Emoth.

' _I thought you mad at me,'_ she spoke silently when they came up for air.

' _I am.'_

Galadriel pulled her head back to look into his blue eyes. _'Arwen wants to see a dwarven wedding. We will be here until I can convince Thorin to wed the one I saw in my mirror.'_

' _How am I to keep entertained?'_ He challenged.

' _You can either accept a room in the mountain or share a hall with Thranduil in his kingdom. Arwen, the twins, Erestor and I will remain as guests in the mountain starting tomorrow.'_

' _Is Elrond staying?'_

' _No, he will take his plunder and beat the snows over the mountains. Glorfindel will go with him and leave the twins here to protect us, and of course, Erestor. Elrond will also escort Círdan over the mountains.'_

' _And still you and our daeriell linger on.'_ He searched her eyes for truth.

' _There is a book. It passed from our knowledge and now has been found. I wish to reunite it with the elves.'_

' _It's at Erebor?'_

' _Yes.'_

Celeborn stepped away and worked the buckles of his armor, allowing his wife to assist. "I will stay with you."

"You will be miserable. I intend on helping the dwarrowdams settle in. There will be a shift in power and Lady Dis must be top dam. Some of the older dams will be resentful, especially those who raised her."

"Boring."

' _And so is talking aloud,'_ she reminded him. _'I want a proper welcome in your arms and our bed.'_ She pulled her thin shift from over her head and slid between silken sheets on this warm summer night.

He stripped and joined her, pulling her close and letting their bodies press together, flesh yearning for more. _'Where can I take you tonight, my queen?'_ His fist wrapped around strands of long golden locks and he tugged until her lips met his.

' _Elrond, Galadriel, your friends the Nazgûl are here.'_ Glorfindel spoke into their minds.

"Blasted elf," Celeborn snarled.

Galadriel pushed her husband onto his back and slid provocatively over his nude body. "I will see you after Thorin and his dwarves are ensconced within Erebor."

He watched as she donned her gown and then rose and swiftly dressing from underwear to armor. He saw knowing smirks when he joined his fellow lords lastly. _'At least I wasn't so hard on my elleth that she either died or sailed,'_ he snarled into their minds.

* * *

Thorin led his dwarves north to Erebor under strict orders of silence. Bard, awakened by the horn of Erebor, roused his pathetically small band and was joined by King Fengel and his equally few drovers and guards. They stood watch at the walls and searched brightening skies for the enemy.

Glorfindel led elven armies to the east and past Ravenhill and Thranduil, fortified with Celeborn and combined warriors held back and moved between Dale and Long Lake while Thráin led all dwarves due south to intercept Thorin. Gandalf attached himself to Thráin and wished his fellow wizard hadn't departed, or Beorn. Little did he know, Radagast and his Rhosgobel rabbits raced through Mirkwood in time to join the battle.

Galadriel and Arwen joined Lord Balin on the rampart; all was ready for war.

The caravan was many miles closer to the mountain when the rising sun blinded Thorin. It was that moment, a screech from the east deafened their ears and the forces of Sauron attacked, waiting for dwarves to lose sight in morning sun.

"Keep moving," Thorin screamed and drew his sword. He and the entire contingent of warriors met the enemy just twenty miles from the gate. They threw themselves between the orcs and Wargs and the lumbering wagons. Thorin yelled out for them to unhitch the ponies and race towards the mountain. He ordered Gróin to halt his fighting and lead the dwarves home. "Forget the stupid wagons," he yelled at Gróin over the cries of battle and dying. "Get the dwarves to the mountain."

Several of the oldest rode ponies, as did pregnant dams, holding babies and tots before them. The rest of the dams, lasses and young dwarves ran away from the battle on foot as fast as their short legs could carry them. It was hard running up the slopes to safety.

Arrows from orc weapons started cutting dwarven guards down all along the caravan. Orcs, emboldened by lack of serious competition advanced into the open. They led trolls with iron chains attached to rings around their necks. From out of nowhere, Nazgûl appeared with their ear piercing screeches. They flew over the caravan and then regrouped over the lake for an attacking run. Before they reached the dwarves, two bright lights blinded them; one from an approaching army and another from the mountain. Disorganized, they broke off and raced towards the offending disturbances.

On a tall hill miles south of the caravan, a lone figure pondered his orders. If they crushed the dwarves, he was the new ruler over the Nazgûl and all orcs from Gundabad and Goblin Town must relocate to Erebor. He knew he would have to fight the imbecilic Mithrandir, but he didn't expect the second wizard. "Well, Gandalf," he spit the common name for his fellow wizard out, "you brought that idiot Radagast with you. No matter, he is no match for my power." Saruman re-planned his joining the fray, but first would see how long it took his army to conquer and destroy the dwarven forces.

Gandalf led the dwarven army from the back of Shadowfax. He spotted the flying beasts and halted, motioning the army to keep moving and they did; parting on either side of his stationary position.

* * *

Galadriel made haste with guards and Arwen to the rampart, where Balin was keeping watch. He was joined by Bombur and Ori. They all bowed when she appeared.

"Where are the elves and men?" Balin asked her. All he saw before him to fight was dwarves.

"Men are protecting Dale and will only come forth if we are losing. If we lose this fight, they will be slaughtered anyway," she gravely replied. "Thranduil and my husband take half of the elves against another large band of orcs that just arrived from Gundabad north of here. Elrond and Círdan are circling to catch the orcs from behind and trap them between two armies with no escape. The dwarves will have to hold on for a little bit."

Satisfied with her answer, Balin watched the battle, wishing he were partaking on one hand and glad to be observing on the other. "Ori, remember highlights of the battle and commit them to parchment, both in verse and drawing."

Ori smiled and nodded. He was too shy to speak in front of the two most beautiful beings he ever laid eyes upon. Thráin told of their beauty, but he didn't come close to describing their fair complexions and perfect looks," Ori decided. Two hours into the battle, he found himself in conversation with the lass, Arwen, while her grandmother fought valiantly from one stationary position with her white ring of power.

The Witch-king of Angmar screamed attack in black speech. Arrows not of dwarven design pierced his undead body and caused it to fall from the back of the flying beast. Before he landed and broke into shards, he saw a line of elves in a long line on the ridge behind Sauron's orcs and recognized them to be of the house of Elrond and the elf with the beard that forbad his kind from ever conquering the coast.

* * *

Bard saw an army that rivaled the Battle of Five Armies fighting elves north of his gate. He turned to Fengel. "Now it is our turn."

Fengel watched an overwhelming force closing on Dale and pushing past a smaller contingency of elves. "I think I'll take my men and slip out the back door and run for the forest."

Bard looked gravely at him. "Do you really think the elves won't hunt you down? Ravens would fly ahead of you all the way. You would never survive the elves of the Golden Wood."

Fengel's shoulders slumped. "What is our orders from the blasted dwarves and elves?"

"We are to guard Dale and not let them enter." He turned to his second, Theigard. "Place our archers along the north wall. Shoot any orc within range."

Without acknowledging, Theigard turned and ran from them.

"I would never allow such disrespect from my subjects," Fengel groused.

Bard looked confused. "My subjects never show disrespect to me. I would never tolerate if they treated me like yours do you."

* * *

As the battle before, this one raged for hours. The Nazgûl were attacked by elven warriors to the point they had trouble leaving the area and fleeing on foot towards Mordor. All their beasts lay dead and so did most of the orcs and all the trolls.

Thorin fought non-stop and saw his location ended close to Dóvad. "You being here means Gandalf got you to Erebor alright!"

"Aye," Dóvad ran his sword through the heart of a short orc with large floppy ears. "Yer little surprise earned ya ah whipping." Without warning he swung his Warhammer at Thorin's head. He figured he had the element of surprise, but discounted he was swinging at a Durin.

Thorin blocked. "No need to strike down the Crown Prince. You had much explaining to do. In fact, it is I who's earned a piece of your hide for my father being injured." Dwarven rage overcame Thorin and Dóvad and the fight was on.

The two traded blows, oblivious to the battle raging around them. Dwalin and Dáin kept an eye on Thorin throughout the battle and thought him mad with dragon sickness again for attacking a ranking lord.

Thorin felt a sting on the backs of his thighs and swung his Warhammer in a circle, hoping to crush the orc that just singed his skin with something. He didn't take his eyes off the lord he was fighting.

Dóvad saw his daughter take Thorin's Warhammer to her side and knew without the armor she would be dead. As it was, she flew off her feet and landed on her back with the wind knocked out. He let out a roar and jumped at Thorin with sword lunging and Warhammer swinging.

Just as Thorin blocked and ducked, Dóvad saw another Warhammer he couldn't avoid. It landed a solid hit to the side of his helmet and he was knocked on his rear, forced out of the battle with a stunned look to his attacker.

Dáin stood over him. "You just earned another stay in our dungeon," he roared formally.

Dwalin steadied Thorin. "I take it Dóvad blamed you for Thráin's deception?"

Thorin was glad the match was over and he could rest a moment. "Speaking of Father; I saw him leading a charge over that hill." He pointed with his sword. "Go get him."

Dwalin grinned and remounted his boar. "Good ta have ya back, Thorin." He rode up the hill and was soon out of sight.

Thorin saw a dwarf struggling to get up and went to help. He grasped the hand and pulled to the feet. He saw the indention of his signature markings from his personal Warhammer and wondered at another dwarf who would attack the Crown Prince from behind. He ripped the helmet off and saw light brown hair tumble over armor clad shoulders. He was stunned when her blue eyes met his. "I hope you have a good explanation for being foolish enough to attack me, Lióni?"

Her eyes held scorn. "I saw you fighting my father. It was bad enough the king humiliated him in the sparing ring only two days ago, but to see you also trying to hurt him made me mad. I think a swat with the flat of my sword against your legs is warranted. If I were larger, I would challenge you proper."

Thorin shoved the helmet back into her hands. "Put it on. I'll let you have the same crack at me as your father when he didn't give me warning he switched sides to fight with orcs."

"Hey Thorin," Dáin interrupted. "As much as ye like sparin with lass's, we do have ah real enemy that needs our attention."

"What cousin, can't you hold them off while I spank this willful lass?" Thorin only half joked, his eyes never leaving those standing before him. "You just keep her father from stabbing me in the back while I teach her it is rude to lay a weapon against the flesh of the Crown Prince."

"Alright, but if he so much as twitches, I'll run him through," Dáin hollered back.

Lióni wasn't so sure now that she had a willing partner. Sparing young dwarves that just reached their maturity was far different from taking on an older seasoned warrior and a Durin to boot. Still, pride forced her to swipe at him with her sword. She saw he discarded his Warhammer and favored the same weapon she used. He easily blocked her first blow and she swiftly reversed using her trademark maneuver that won most matches for her. She knew she was faster than most dwarrow.

Thorin grinned as he brought his sword around his body in deflection just as fast. He then slapped her shoulder broadside. "Point," he called out.

Lióni picked up the pace and advanced, swinging furiously with both hands gripping the hilt. All her other sparing opponents backed up, as protocol dictated.

Thorin advanced and used his stronger muscles to remove the sword from her hands with one mighty blow to her wrists. "Point," he called a second time. "Do you want to pick it up so I can get my third and winning point, or," he shoved her out of the way and threw his sword into the heart of an orc with a drawn bow at her back. He ran and pulled it out. Returning, he saw she had retrieved her own weapon and nodded his approval. "I believe the next attack is mine." He slapped low, aiming for her thigh, as she did his. She blocked and he lithely stepped around her until turning her in a half circle. He saw her feet didn't remain apart and quickly stepped again and swung letting a resounding smack ring out as his sword slapped her buttocks. "Point and match," he called out cheerfully.

Lióni dropped the tip of her sword down in defeat, face red that he turned her attack against him back on her. She could hear several warrior, including Dáin laughing and hollering taunts at Thorin. She actually stepped back a pace when he stealthy moved to tower above her. "You will never be seen on a battlefield again or I'll have your father hanged. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Milord," she replied.

A commotion caused Thorin to look. Dwalin was returning with his father and dragging another armor clad warrior by the arm to Thorin's location. "What is this generation coming to?" he thundered and ripped the helmet off his niece, Bát.

Thorin scowled at her. "I believe you were ordered to stay with your mother and sister."

Bát saucily tossed her dark hair off her face. "And miss all this fun, Thorin. You know me better than that." She took his arm. "You can escort me to the mountain, and more importantly, keep me from Uncle Dwalin."

Thorin smirked at said uncle. "How many lasses are in your army?"

"Outside these two, I'm sure none." He looked at his niece. "No more fighting for you. I'll not deliver an injured or dead daughter to the advisor of the king."

"Father is that important?" Bát squeaked in awe. "I can hardly wait to see him. It's been almost two years and he was always gone."

Thorin disengaged her hand and pushed her in Lióni's direction. "Keep each other company." He stalked to his father and embraced him in front of all. "I'm glad you are here and in charge. I'm afraid my first order from this throne would be to ban all dams and lasses so we dwarves could have some peace."

Thráin hugged his son tightly for a moment and then they laughed and slapped foreheads. "We have much catching up to do, but first we need to get the rest of our dwarves safely inside the mountain." He looked to where Lióni was now beside her father. "Did I see ye playing with that lass instead of killing the enemy?"

Thorin looked in the direction of the finger. "She struck me from the back when I was teaching her father a lesson. I was returning the favor."

"She has spunk," Thráin agreed, impressed.

Elrond and Círdan pushed through gathering dwarves around their king. Towering over the dwarves from atop their large warhorses, Elrond reported. "We are killing the last of the orcs and Celeborn's messenger reports the Gundabad orcs are also either dead or fleeing back north. My twins are chasing them all the way, as is Legolas."

"I seem to remember that scenario from the last battle." Thráin chuckled.

"I want all bodies dragged to that ravine," Thorin pointed. "We'll burn them this far from the mountain and save the stink of rotting bodies."

"I offer my warriors until we depart," Elrond stated and gave a mental shout.

"You can have mine also," Círdan added. He knew his warriors enjoyed the battle, for it was too many years since they applied their trade.

"I accept and thank ye." Thráin kicked his boar in the ribs and moved his dwarves towards Erebor.

"Did I hurt you?" Thorin moved his ram beside the one Lióni rode. He didn't know why he was concerned and figured it was because she was a lass; albeit a beautiful one.

"Just my pride," she softly answered, conscious her father rode a boar on her other side and was listening. "I'm glad you recovered your last attack."

"Thankfully, I have few memories before waking in Lord Elrond's healing halls. Once again, with the help of elven healing I recovered fast and was able to lead dwarves over the Misty Mountains." He frowned. Why was he talking to a lass?

She saw the frown. "Are you injured?"

"Uh, no, no, I'm fine." He heeled the ram's sides until riding beside his father at the head of the line.

Lióni looked at his back and thought how handsome he looked and regal.

Dóvad looked at her and then the prince. He saw enough dwarven matches to know this was one in the making and hoped the king didn't break it up by insisting Thorin marry another. He would make sure and mention it to the king, should he not be tossed into the dungeon again. He really needed to learn control of his temper he decided.

* * *

The army started the several mile march to Erebor. Gimli was excited and looked at all orcs he passed, hoping one was alive, so he could get another kill under his belt. He joined the warriors with Thorin's permission. He was so happy when just before they broke from the woods, Thorin called all warriors for a meeting. He explained they would split from the elves and cross the river on the bridge and travel up the east side of Long Lake. He explained they would most likely be attacked and all warriors needed to stay behind to fight. He looked at every lad over sixty. "I instruct you this day to join the dwarrows in the battle. I know you will do our clan proud." Gimli remembered tears coming to his eyes and Thorin looking directly at him.

Gimli saw another dwarf limping along, obviously wounded and veered to intersect. "Can I help?" he asked.

Thorin Stonehelm heard an offer and looked to his right. He knew that face. "I know ye," he stuttered and wished for a drop for his parched tongue.

Gimli looked close and the last twenty years rolled away. "Thorin?"

Thorin stopped and looked close. "Gimli?"

"Aye, cousin. What happened ta ye?"

Thorin made a dismissive gesture. "I was allowed by father ta join the army, but was supposed ta stay with the medics. I made my escape an joined the regulars. I was soon surrounded by orcs an fighting for my life. One got ah slice across my thigh with his scimitar. I'm afraid Father will find me an I'll be punished."

"Thorin gave me permission ta join the army," Gimli replied proudly. "Can I help ye?"

Thorin motioned in the distance. "Elves will find me, an take me ta their healing tents."

Gimli looked and sure enough elves were scouring the dead, looking for wounded and orcs to kill.

Thorin laid a hand on his arm. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"I'll try, but if asked, I won't lie," Gimli told him.

"Fair enough," Thorin agreed just as an elf saw him limping along and placed him on a large horse and raced to the elven compound.


	39. 39 Reunions

Ponies and rams worked with few breaks, ferrying rushing dwarves until all were in the mountain. Balin was there to meet every group and welcome them home. He saw tears streaming down cheeks of older dwarves who never thought to see this day come. Of those who didn't remember, or born abroad, he saw the wonder of Erebor in their eyes. Understanding dawned with their elders obsession to return. More than one had shame when they looked at Balin for not joining the Company and fight. He smiled at all the same and would leave any vengeance with Thorin and Thráin.

Galadriel couldn't shroud her wearied fëa from the elves sworn to protect her and Arwen. She channeled her massive powers against the Nazgûl for hours and kept the power of the dark wizard at bay. She knew he was out there, but couldn't fathom why he didn't attack so she could learn his identity. It was her experience those of darkness loved to boast, both their deeds and identity. When she sensed he and the Nazgûl were gone, she let Arwen help her down the steps with a hand to her elbow and they walked swiftly through parting and gaping dwarves to her assigned chambers by mid-afternoon.

 _'If your Daeradar wishes to see me tonight, he can come to the mountain. I'll not go to him,'_ she mentally informed Arwen. Secure in the knowledge a dozen guards were in the hall, she lay on a bed specifically built for men and elves and drifted into a deep sleep.

Arwen stayed in the ante chamber to be close if needed, although their maids were also in an adjoining chamber, and read from a book Ori shyly brought her on the rampart. They struck up a conversation and he offered a tour of the library, of which she accepted. She remembered her grandmother and Thranduil talking about a special book that was at Erebor and she mentioned it to Ori.

"Yes, it came back with Thorin's things from Jötunheim." He remembered and hustled to Thorin's rooms and fetched it. He told her it belonged to Thorin, but she could look at it.

* * *

From his position, Saruman watched the new army he mustered from remnants of the last battle and emptied Gundabad and he personally led a large band of goblins from Moria. His army being slaughtered, he could see with his own eyes. He figured correctly that Thranduil would come and fight alongside dwarves as a favor to Gandalf, but was stunned to see the beard of Círdan in the mesh of elves. That Elrond was also in attendance, meant his idiot golden haired General was somewhere deep in the battle killing three times faster than normal elves capable. "If Círdan is here, so is Celeborn," he softly audibled.

His plans of capturing Thranduil and forcing him into servitude of Sauron faded rapidly. He told Sauron he would personally bring the elven king to him in chains and they would force him to do their bidding or kill his son. He mounted his horse and without a backwards glance at the battle, galloped south for an hour before stopping and pulling his Palantír from its sack. He communed news of the battle with Sauron and confirmed the Nazgûl were on foot and following him away from the battle, lest one of them were killed forever.

* * *

Dis rode her pony through the Mithril doors etched with the Company and her father. She looked around and let memories flood back, remembering her mother taking her to market and deep inside the mountain to bathe. She saw her father, younger and standing tall beside her grandfather on the balcony overlooking the entrance in her mind. Lastly, she looked at the white haired dwarf standing by the pony to help her down. "Balin, I can't believe I'm home."

He steadied her dismount. Pulling her into his arms, he answered. "Aye, lass, and welcome home." He motioned Ori to his side.

Dis saw the youth and gave him a hug. "Your mother is worried sick for you."

He blushed and remembered his orders. "I am to escort you to the family wing and your home."

"Oh, in time." She looked around. "I will wait for Father and Thorin up there." She pointed to the balcony.

Unsure his place, Ori looked for help from Balin.

Balin smiled and nodded his approval. "Ori, escort Lady Dis to the balcony and stay with her. Anything she needs, fetch it."

Overlooking the massive entrance, she watched Longbeards return home.

"Dis?"

Thráin's daughter looked to the voice and saw an older dam. "Yes?"

Aneht smiled and rushed to hug her. "You were such a small thing last I saw you." She pulled back. "I'm Aneht, Náin's wife and Dáin's mother."

Dis smiled broadly. "I've heard about you all my life. I was raised by Dwin, Meeli and Dioari, but you know that already."

"Ah, my dear friends," Aneht exclaimed. "I hope all three made the trip?"

Dis nodded. "We got separated in the rush to avoid orcs. I'm sure they will be here momentarily. Thorin ordered guards on them exclusively, and also me."

"How is the dear lad doing?" Aneht asked with concern.

"My brother recovered under the care of elves. I understand some elves might be here already?"

Aneht nodded. "They arrived yesterday and those tents you passed are theirs. We even have two of the most important in the mountain."

"I'm sure they are Lady's Galadriel and Arwen," Dis spoke and had the satisfaction of seeing Aneht falter slightly at her knowledge.

"You met them?"

"I traveled with them. I had many opportunities to converse with both."

Aneht made note that the elven ladies didn't so much as acknowledge her presence.

Dis pointed out prominent Longbeards from both the White and Blue Mountains. "There is Meeli," she pointed and turned to Ori. "Bring Lady's Meeli, Dwin and Dioari up here, please."

"And bring Azie and Aneh also," Aneht ordered and they watched him hurry down the steps and push through thronging bodies in his quest.

* * *

Thráin trotted his boar into the mountain and looked around. "I haven't seen it this disorganized since the dragon came."

At his side, his son agreed. Thorin knew his job; find the elves and men and get a report. Seeing his father safely into the mountain, he spun the ram and raced towards the elven tents. They separated from their fighting companions stopping to either help injured dwarves or fight disorganized bands of orcs.

The guards let him pass unhindered and he looked around for someone he knew. Seeing nobody, he accosted the first elf to cross his ram's path. "You there, I'm looking for an elven lord who can give me an update."

The elf knew he was the Crown Prince, but he was just a dwarf and therefor lesser than the first born. "You will have to look elsewhere for our lords. They don't have time for dwarves. We did fight your battle after all."

Thorin felt his blood boil. "I take it you dump chamber pots and are worthless. I'll find someone smarter than ah stump." He dug his heels in and trotted towards the center of the compound.

The elf laughed at his retreating figure and turned into Elladan. He bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"I want you to track Prince Thorin down and bring him to me," Elladan ordered.

"Yes…," the elf choked on the title. He was older than this elfling by a thousand years. He turned and trotted after the dwarf.

Elladan stood still and waited; bow in one hand and other on the hilt of his sword.

Erestor worked his way to the healing tents from where he dismounted and turned his horse over to a page for grooming and feeding. He spotted Elladan standing stoically in the lane, a peeved expression on his face. He looked for signs of injury. "I thought you were chasing orcs north of here?"

"Elrohir couldn't keep up, so Legolas and I brought him back." Elladan finally let his gaze part from the scene he was watching and looked at Erestor. "I must be getting old." At Erestor's incredulous look he continued. "I heard Thorin ask an elf, I think from Círdan's realm, for an elf lord. As I veered to intercept, the elf blew him off and sent him on a wild goose chase. I'm annoyed, nay, just angry that Thorin got treated so callously. I ordered the elf to bring Thorin to me."

Erestor smirked. "You are definitely sounding like your adar. He will be proud of how you are handling this situation."

Elladan threw a pretend look of shock at his mentor. "Please don't tell Adar that I am morphing into him."

They both chuckled and turned to see the elf leading Thorin back to them.

"Lords," the elf stated.

"Your name and lord?" Erestor ordered.

"Amalan, and I am a warrior in the service of Lord Círdan."

"He will hear of your treatment of Prince Thorin," Erestor rebuked.

The warrior nodded that he understood and knew punishment was in his future, and most likely immediate future. He departed and cursed his bad luck at being the one the dwarf called out to.

Elladan switched to Westron, but was sure Thorin understood their conversation with the elf. "Prince Thorin, how may we serve?"

Thorin nodded his approval at his improved treatment. "I seek an update on the battle and to visit your healing tents if dwarves are here."

"I'm sure our healers gathered your injured along with ours," Erestor answered. "As for an update, I'm seeking one myself. If you wish to join us, we are headed to Lord Círdan's tent for news."

Thorin turned his ram and rode alongside their long strides. They stopped before a large tent and all three entered together. Inside Celeborn, Thranduil and Círdan were looking at a map of the area.

Círdan looked up when new arrivals entered his peripheral vision. "Join us," he gestured. "Taíban and Demythel are meeting with Glorfindel on the battle field just south of here. Soon we will have a complete analysis of todays skirmish. I've been told it lasted about as long as the last battle fought here with the same disorganization among orcs at battle's end."

"I saw a band of orcs still fighting when I entered your compound," Thorin commented. "They are on Ravenhill and engaged with dwarves led by Nori, a Durin. Several of the Company and Dáin were rushing to join him, so I'm assuming they will be routed."

Celeborn issued a silent order. _'Glorfindel, orcs are still fighting on Ravenhill. Help the dwarves that are engaging them.'_

' _I see them,'_ Glorfindel responded.

"Elves are assisting," Celeborn informed Thorin.

Thorin added his own report. "Dwalin, and Dóvad led our scattered forces against another band that was late to the party. We were about five miles from the mountain, fighting sporadically when they charged over a hill. There was about three hundred, with a dozen Wargs and two trolls. I was entrusted with Father's life and for once he let Dáin and Dwalin fight. We plowed a path through the middle of them, splitting their forces in two. Dwalin took one side and Dáin mopped up the other. I expect they'll be along sometime after dark. I would still be fighting, but saw elves approaching, so took Father to the mountain."

"I saw King Thráin and you break free from that band," Erestor told him. "I remained on a hilltop while Glorfindel joined the battle after the king and Prince Thorin left the area. Glorfindel took half of Elrond and Círdan's forces and assisted Dáin, while the twins and Legolas gathered the rest of the army and tackled the other half from what you split. I watched Glorfindel kill one of the trolls singlehandedly with ease, and he is as I speak is assisting Lord Nori."

Taíban and Demythel entered and started giving their methodical reports.

Elladan started getting edgy and didn't want his father to find him in camp. "I'm taking Legolas and scouting towards Gundabad. We only turned back because Elrohir started feeling bad."

"Take my nephews," Thorin ordered. "Providing they are not injured. I haven't seen them since the fighting began. They need more scouting and fighting under their belts."

Elladan smiled in relief at his dismissal, even if it came from a dwarf and stepped out of Erestor's reach and disappeared.

* * *

Thorin walked among his injured in the healing tents. He looked on faces he knew and relief flowed through him when none of the Company was counted among the numbers. He found Óin working alongside Elrond at a lower table, eyes taking in it was a dwarf being tended and just as fast, recognition dawned and he let out a curse stalking to stand beside Óin. "What happened?"

Óin missed the order, so Elrond responded. "Master Thorin Stonehelm has much to learn, like following orders. He strayed from his assigned post with healers and joined the battle. He will now spend a couple weeks in bed."

"No way," Thorin shouted up at the smirking elven lord. "Not for this little scratch."

"This little scratch went to the bone," Elrond patiently explained and grabbed catgut. "Lord Óin," he raised his voice and when the dwarf looked in his face to read his lips, shouted, "Hold him down."

Thorin laughed and patted Thorin on the shoulder. "I'll tell your father where you are and why."

Thorin protested and missed the needle starting to close the long wound. "Don't tell Father. I'll think of something on how I got injured."

Thorin Oakenshield glared down at the young Durin. "I'm telling your father the truth. For attempting to lie, you will be punished also for that. Want to add to your sentence?"

Thorin Stonehelm shook his head and let it fall back onto the table and let out a curse when the needle struck again. Óin grabbed his shoulders, while another elf effortlessly immobilized his feet.

Satisfied his dwarves were well taken care of, Thorin mounted his ram and went to give his own report. He met Glorfindel in the lane between the mountain and elven tents and both stopped.

"Mae govannen," Thorin greeted and Glorfindel did likewise. He saw the elven general motion for his weary warriors to go on and soon they were alone.

"We helped your Company defeat the last standing band of orcs," Glorfindel stated with his present smile. "Our warriors and those of Dale will patrol tonight and dwarves can retreat inside their mountain and greet long lost loved ones."

"I am on call for dwarves tonight. I would appreciate a cot in the tents of your lords, so I can assist where needed."

Gandalf galloped up on Shadofax and nodded a silent greeting to both of them. "I am staying in the tents of elves tonight and dealing with elves and men before seeking Thráin for an audience." He focused on Thorin. "Does Thráin have his mountain under control?"

"I was just going to find out," Thorin answered.

"Word reached me two of your females joined the fighting. Do I have to have a word with them?" Gandalf threatened.

Thoughts of Lióni swinging her sword at him filtered briefly in front of his eyes. "Father and I will deal with them."

"Hrrmp," Gandalf blew out his breath. "Glorfindel, I'm checking in. Are you coming?"

Glorfindel grinned at Thorin, but answered the wizard. "I'll join you with Elrond in tow. Say an hour?"

"That will give me time to visit Dale and escort the kings to the meeting," Gandalf added and with a nod flew his horse in the direction of Dale. Glorfindel, went to his tent for clean clothes before dragging Elrond from his healing duties. Thorin turned his ram towards the open doors of the mountain and once again was halted when Dáin drew up, also riding a ram.

Thorin looked at the animal. "Kill another boar?"

"Nay, he was worn out from all his fighting. I sent him ta the stables for food and rest. Let's take ah ride an check the mopping up."

Thorin looked at the mountain and his orders to report. With a flashy grin to his companion, they raced back in the direction of the main battle.

* * *

Galadriel reverently held the book. "I feared it gone forever. I asked it brought to Lothlórien when it went missing, along with the messenger who left Mithlond and was never heard from again. My mirror stayed silent these long centuries." She awoke after four hours of deep sleep and joined her granddaughter while their servants fussed over them.

"Why did you want it, Daernaneth?" Arwen asked. She showed her grandmother the book when she woke and joined her for a glass of wine.

"I assumed you would be the next elleth wed and wished to refresh my memory on gowns worn since the first wedding at Cuiviénen, where prominent weddings first happened under the stars. It survived the march to the sea and sacking and fall of Beleriand and War of the Wrath. It was housed in Círdan's palace until I requested it for your naneth's wedding. It stayed at Imladris until Thranduil carried it west when he courted and married Ríllas. You see, only royal gowns and the wedding garments of the lords they married are in this book. There is only one book and it was to continue through Elrond's and Thranduil's lines."

"There was some Cirth I couldn't read," Arwen admitted.

"Yes, the original language spoken in Cuiviénen."

"How did the book remain intact all these millennia?" Arwen was bursting with questions and only heard stories of the famous tome detailing wedding garments and their history.

"The covers are silver and threads for binding made of thread spun by Queen Vairë and the book a gift from Lord Oromë when he found the elves. It will someday be reunited with elves across the sea." Done with her lesson, Galadriel set the book on a table and went to a balcony overlooking the elven tents. She knew from the outside, her balcony looked like a dent in the mountain. _'Is fighting done?'_ she asked into Celeborn's mind.

' _It is. The lords are gathering in Círdan's tent for a meeting. Do you wish to join us?'_ He stopped talking and took a large sip of wine. He was sitting at a table with a carafe in front of him and never let his flute get half empty.

' _Arwen and I will venture, with our guards, so don't worry, to a balcony and watch dwarves reunite. I'm sure King Thráin will be moving among his returning dwarves and I wish to ensure his safety. Are many elves injured?'_

' _Some. We lost fifteen elves, which will be carted to Thranduil's burying ground. Dwarves lost about a hundred and have more injured. Mithrandir just entered with Bard and the idiot. He is yammering at me, so I'll see you tomorrow.'_

' _Goodnight, meleth-nín,'_ she replied.

The small group of elves entered the main entrance. Galadriel and Arwen wore cowls over their heads to avoid unnecessary attention. High above the bustling din of joyous reunions, they watched.

* * *

Dis was keeping an eye out for him and would know her father anyplace. He rode with Thorin into the vast hall and everyone who saw him bowed and the commotion caught her eye. She pushed through the click of dwarven ladies and raced down the stairs.

Thráin scanned dwarves and spotted several with looks of awe and reverence on their faces, so figured they were new arrivals. A dam pushed through pressing bodies and threw herself at him.

"Father, I missed you so."

Now knowing the identity of the body hugging his armor tightly, he hugged her back just as fervently. A long moment later, he pushed back to look into her face. It aged, but she was still a beauty. "Lass, for fifty years I prayed ta Mahal that he would let this old eye see ye again. I would have grieved more if ye had perished over yer brother." He kissed each of her cheeks.

"So ye really did live, ye old goat." A loud voice boomed behind him.

Thráin turned, arm still around Dis' shoulders. His eye widened. "Old Goat? That's no way ta talk ta yer king," Thráin goaded right back and let loose of his daughter to engage the dwarf that challenged him. They moved, glaring, until facing each other. Without warning, they smashed foreheads and howled in laughter. Thráin pulled him in for a tight hug and backed off, but kept his hands on the shoulders of the dwarf. "Garad, ye ole warmonger. Careful of insulting the king, or I'll have yer sister beat the tar out of ye."

Garad heartily joined in the laughter. "Aye, Aneht almost matched me in scrappin when we were young. With us being rare twins, we did everything together until twenty."

"I'll let ye greet yer sister an see ye tomorrow for ah feast," Thráin turned to see old Gróin, standing in the middle of the open gates, tears streaming as he looked all around. He pushed through dwarves until standing in front of the old dwarf.

Gróin noticed a body blocking his forward view and went to step around him, tears blurring everything. He stopped when a hand from the dwarf settled on his shoulder. Wiping his eyes, he focused and they opened wide. "Thráin lad, ye are ah sight for my old eyes." He pulled the king tightly to him and in the entranceway, dwarves nearby stopped when they heard Thráin's name and let him greet his eldest living kin.

Thráin pulled back with a huge grin. "Ye made it home ta die, like ye always said ye would."

"I'm ready now," Gróin admitted. "Many's the time I thought the trip would take me. I'm sure if not for elven healing; I would be buried along the trail."

Fili and Kili took that moment to enter the halls and saw their grandfather just as he spotted them. He motioned them to him and to their surprise hugged both warmly.

"Ye did good, lads," Thráin beamed at them.

"They did better than good," Gróin boasted.

"We were supposed to ride with Elladan towards Gundabad until Legolas showed up," Kili told them. "It was mutual that we would part then and there."

Fili added. "Elladan got disgusted and said he would patrol around here alone and depart with his brother in the morning and take us if we want to go with just them."

Galadriel, from the balcony overheard the conversation with her superior hearing. She mentally selected her eldest grandson. _'Elladan, come to the mountain, please.'_ There was no reply, but she knew he heard.

At last no more returning dwarves filtered into the hall and new arrivals were quickly escorted to their homes or housed with residential dwarves until housing made available. Elladan strode into the hall and bowed a greeting to Thráin.

"Mae govannen, King Thráin. It is good to see you again."

"An ye also, laddie. Which one are ye?"

He grinned. "Elladan."

"I wouldn't know if ye were pullin my leg, so Elladan ye are."

"He is Elladan," Galadriel confirmed and joined them, Arwen at her side. She sternly addressed her grandson. "Escort us to your brother."

Elladan's eyes went wide. "Now? It's dark and orcs are scattered all over. Adar and Daeradar will have my skin if something were to happen to either of you."

"I can easily take care of any orc," Galadriel scoffed lightly. She turned to Thráin. "When will you close the doors?"

"If you lovely ladies are returning, not until ye are back."

"We won't be long. Elrond is weary and needs my healing assistance. He is in a meeting right now and Elrohir is alone."

"I told Legolas to check on him," Elladan snapped.

"Legolas is patrolling Dale, per my orders. He answers to me this trip."

"I was just heading out myself," Elladan complained.

"We won't be long." Galadriel led the way into the dark until Elladan's long strides had him taking point.


	40. 40 First Elimination

A handful of warriors slipped through the stables into the mountain. The large doors were shut and it was two hours after the midnight hour. Warriors dispersed to their hall, except two that climbed wearily flights of stairs to the Durin wing. Guards stood like statues in flickering torchlight. Dáin and Thorin bid each other goodnight and one parted to his chambers, praying the dams were sleeping and the other to check on his father. He wasn't surprised to find him still up.

"Waiting up for my report?" he asked laughingly.

Thráin turned from the glass door leading to his private patio. "Nay, son. My mind won't let me rest. All those dank years in captivity I dreamed of this day. Gróin an I hugged, cried an conjured up memories long dead, an all the while standing in the middle of traffic, blocking the entrance."

Thorin let a soft smile creep in unaware. "You are the king. If you want to block any entrance in this mountain, it is your right."

Thráin smiled back. "Well, I best turn in. Tomorrow is ah long day, starting with ah quick meeting with all lords, an then we are hosting supper for eleven royalty, Bard an Fengel at seven."

"Goodnight, Father." Thorin watched him go and went down a hall that linked to his own chambers. He saw Picket had turned lights down low, so he had just enough to see by as he made for his bed, weary beyond endurance. He dropped his armor in the main chamber and knew it would be taken for cleaning and polishing while he slept. He kicked the heavy door shut with the heel of his boot, dropping a line of clothes towards the bed. The tunic he tossed in the direction of his laundry basket and reached for the buckle of his pants. A movement under the covers stopped his hand and he stealthily grabbed the sword he already removed and set on the night table by his bed. Slowly, he grabbed the edge of the quilt and ripped it off, letting his sword rest against the neck of someone. He squinted in the dim light and swore, "Mahal take me now."

The very naked dwarven lass tried to sit up and felt metal against her throat. "Are you going to kill me for daring what the other lasses don't have the backbone for?"

Thorin jerked his blade from her delicate throat. "How did you get in here?" He realized she was in the buff and tossed the cover back over her, keeping his eyes on her face.

"I followed your father's servant in, by carrying a bag right behind and when the guard opened the door for him, he assumed I was also doing business in your chambers. Once in, I slipped behind a settee until the servant left."

Thorin gave it to her for audacity and telling the truth. He was still trying to figure what to do with her. "Get up and dressed. I'll escort you to your parents."

She smiled in triumph. "And by morning all of Erebor will know you and I were alone. I will be assured the throne."

"Not if I toss you off my balcony," he snarled in rage; exhaustion dictating his demeanor. His education of the unwed, which would stoop to any low for the title of queen, was just beginning. He had a thought and smiled evilly. "I'm taking you to my father. He will escort you home. Nobody will besmirch his name or reputation."

"I'll tell everyone you and I were alone in your chambers and I didn't have a stitch to on." She slipped out of bed and pushed her body against his bare chest, soft mounds meeting rough hair and solid muscle.

When silky skin slid against his hair roughened chest, he felt a stirring deep in his gut and entertained a fleeting thought of taking her roughly on his bed. Quickly stepping back, he hurried to the door. "I'm bringing back the king. You can't do that to him. If you don't want the king spanking your bare backside, I suggest you be presentable when we return."

"No," she grew desperate. She waited for him to reach his main chamber and ran past him, throwing open the door into the hall and started screaming, "Help, help, someone keep Thorin Oakenshield from having his way before we are married."

The guards in the hall eyeballed the naked lass as she ran down the hall screaming Thorin was trying to rape her. Doors flew open and half-dressed Durin's got an eyeful.

Azie heard a female screaming and followed Dáin to the door and realized he was just coming to bed. She looked around to keep young Thorin from seeing the lass when she glimpsed her run past their open door, naked as the day she was born. "Dáin, get her in here," she snapped.

Dáin spun from his place in the open door, mouth trying to work and his face red. "Me?"

"Yes, you are bonded and other than seeing something you've already seen, won't stir like the young bucks before their time." She spotted a throw and tossed it to him.

Dáin braved the now snickering soldiers and wrapped the lass up. "Get ye inside an Azie will see ta ye."

Tears flowed down her cheeks and she pulled the cloth to her eyes to hide her shame and cursed the day her parents were born.

Azie kicked Dáin into the hall and shut the door in his face. He looked at it stunned. "I'll be danged." He turned around to a crowd of Durin's Folk. "Don't ask me what happened." He pointed to Thorin, now in the crowd with the king. "The lass said Thorin molested her."

"I hope you're talking about your Thorin," Oakenshield growled.

"I'm talking about the one wearing only trousers," Dáin replied. "If ye are thawing, Thorin, this lass is as good as any."

"I'm not marrying her. She's a gold-digger," Thorin loudly protested.

"Yer ah calling my daughter ah tramp?" The raging voice of her father had everyone spinning searching for the one claiming the lass.

Thráin took control. "Thorin, lords, with me." He turned back to his chambers and they dutifully followed, including the father, vociferously claiming injury to his family name and Thorin better make it right, while in the company of soldiers and dams.

Picket appeared and turned the gas lights to full and the room lit with mostly bewildered Durin lords and one angry prince.

Thorin stalked to the father of the lass. "Before I run you through, explain how your daughter found her way to my bed while I was out fighting to save your sorry hide."

"Now, Thorin, that's no way ta speak ta yer future father-in-law," the dwarf cajoled and spread his hands in a gesture of friendship.

"There will be no wedding, for I'll not have a scheming tramp," Thorin roared, his face red in anger. He spun to his father. "Banish them from my sight, or I'll toss the entire family off the rampart."

Thráin let his gaze drift between Thorin and the dwarf lord and back. He sighed. "At our meeting in the morning, bring this lord before me. I'll make ah judgement then. Now if there are no more naked lasses in my son's bedchamber, I say we all get some sleep. I want all lords with daughters in ah meeting at six. All Durin lords are ta be present also an that includes the Company lords."

Everyone departed leaving father and son alone. "Do I have ta tuck ye in?"

Thorin snorted. "It's coming to that." He was more cautious entering his bedchamber the second time.

The lord collected his now dressed daughter and they marched through a long line of laughing guards to their assigned chambers.

* * *

"Gimli, you need to wake now." His mother, Gellett, gently shook her son's shoulder.

Gimli opened his eyes and looked up at a strange ceiling. "I hardly remember lying down."

"You came into the mountain dead on your feet. I told Thorin you were too young for a full blown battle, but he overruled me."

Memories flooded back. "It was great, Ma. I'm going ta be ah soldier." He swung his feet over the edge and went rigid when she spoke again.

"The dams are looking for Thorin Stonehelm. I thought maybe he came in with you and I missed him. He isn't hiding in here is he?" She looked around.

"Uh, uh….no. Did they check with Dáin?" he deflected. It would be a cold day in Mahal before he ratted Thorin out.

"Dáin didn't come home after a brief appearance. You missed some excitement, although I was guarding your door and wouldn't have let you see her."

Relieved for a change of topic, he pulled the clean tunic he donned after bathing right before he was escorted by Ori to his bed. "What happened?"

"One of the Durin hopefuls tried to trap Thorin Oakenshield into a wedding. Azie told me the girl was hysterical; not because of her humiliation, but she failed her father. The lass confessed her parents set it up and if she played her cards right, she would be queen of all Thorin's wealth. Azie saw right through her lies until she spoke truth and Azie informed Dáin when he went back to his chambers to give the girl to her father. Before Azie could grill him as to Thorin Stonehelm's whereabouts; that scamp mumbled something about protecting Oakenshield and disappeared. He hasn't been seen since and now all the lords are meeting now."

"I should be there," Gimli complained and stomped his boots just pulled on to force his heels down. "These boots are too small," he complained.

Gellett sighed. "I'll go to the market today and shop for another pair."

"No, I want Durin boots with engraved toes displaying the Durin crest."

"Gimli, they are too expensive."

"We are rich now. Father gets ah fourteenth of Thorin's share an Ori told me it was more than any of us could spend in ah lifetime."

"I wish your father was here to make such a decision," Gellett grumbled and escorted him to their main chamber. "We are to meet the lords for breakfast when a servant comes with news their meeting is finished."

"I'll starve ta death," Gimli exaggerated.

His mother handed him an apple.

* * *

Celeborn watched the night sky give way to another day and the morning star shining brightly. He didn't sleep, but kept watch over Elrohir while Elrond rested on a cot in the same tent. Elladan came back from escorting Galadriel and Arwen from the mountain to visit Elrohir, saddled his horse and left. He wanted to ride with the younger elf, but Glorfindel showed up on the back of Asfaloth and mentally told him he would watch the other twin that night. He knew they patrolled the area, killing anything foolish enough to show themselves.

' _How is our elfling this morning?'_

He slipped into the quiet tent and laid a hand on his grandson's chest. _'Stronger. I'm sending him to the mountain today to be your escort.'_ He imparted healing; satisfied Elrohir was almost well and would be already, if not for taxing himself during the battle.

' _I need you to check on the dwarf, Thorin Stonehelm.'_

' _He need killing?'_

' _No, meleth-nín; he needs your special healing touch. He is a youth and Durin. The dams are just finding out he isn't in the mountain and I fear for the king's life when they discover their baby is injured. Lord Dáin, his father, is hiding from his wife.'_

' _Tiny dwarven minds are not capable of coherent thought. Let them beat Dáin to death. I'll come to the mountain and watch.'_

' _You're as bad as Thranduil.'_

Inwardly he smiled when she cut the link in a huff. He wandered to the healing tents and asked after the dwarf in question.

* * *

Thráin sat at the head of the conference table. He noticed Gandalf joined them this early morning and was seated in his customary place opposite him at the far end of the long table. It was crowded with all major lords and lesser ones took seats along the wall. He was pleased to see his handpicked lords in their places. He sternly looked around the table.

Gandalf, uncertain as why a meeting was called at the break of dawn, broke the strange silence dwarves were not noted for. "This is a merry gathering this fine summer morning. I happened by just as the doors were opening and soldiers leaving on patrol. Imagine my surprise when their captain commented you all were meeting to decide the fate of a lord. I hurried in to be of service." While his mouth smiled, his eyes gave a warning look to Thráin and Thorin. His gaze shifted to Dáin and widened at the chagrined look he was giving the table. "Lord Dáin, I hope you aren't the lord in question."

Dáin snorted. "More like I'm trying ta find ah reasonable excuse ta tell the dams why my son is in the elven healing tent."

Gandalf's eyes twinkled. "I peeked in on my way here and believe it or not, Lord Celeborn was healing him."

"I'll choose not to believe it," Thorin snarled. "Now, if we are done with Dáin's clumsy son, we have another matter to discuss." He looked directly at the lord in question, who slumped in his chair.

Thráin rapped the table with his knuckle dusters. "Let's get this meeting over with. The ladies are waiting ta join us for breakfast with the youngsters so we can all get acquainted. Gandalf, you're also invited."

Gandalf smiled his acceptance and watched carefully, wondering what could have happened in the short hours of night this far north.

"Lord Pýirt, your daughter gave an interesting story ta Lady Azie last night. For those who aren't aware of what transpired. Thorin tried ta retire an was met by ah naked lass named Byrta, an the daughter of Lord Pýirt. She tried ta seduce Thorin, an when that didn't work ran down the hall without ah stitch on crying rape. Azie calmed her down an realized she wasn't frightened of Thorin, but her parents, who put her up ta the deed…" He didn't get further words out before half a dozen lords cried foul and challenged Pýirt to fights.

Again Thráin's knuckle dusters rapped until silence ensued. "Her first story was Thorin invited her ta his bedchamber before leaving for Jötunheim an they had secretly seen each other on the sly. Azie laughed in her face an told her ta come up with ah better story. The second was her parents plotted what happened last night an threatened her with ah wedding ta ah miner if she failed ta land Thorin. That version, Azie believed."

Pýirt scowled. "It should have worked."

"Yes, on any dwarf not of Durin blood," Thráin agreed. "You underestimated ah Durin. Now for yer punishment an ah lesson ta other fathers. Don't try anything or suffer Lord Pýirt's fate." He stood and motioned the lord to rise also.

Gandalf looked on with interest.

"Lord Pýirt, for trying to steal the title queen for your daughter; you and your family will leave the mountain and forever more your blood will be disqualified from seeking marriage with a Durin. You are banned from mingling with other lords and will be on the next caravan back to the Iron Hills. There, you will submit yourself to Lord Glóin for further discipline that involves a year of breaking ore deep in the mines. When you have finished your year, you may resume your duties as lord."

Pýirt looked like he was going to protest until Dwalin stood. "You have just been dismissed."

Without a backwards glance, the disgraced lord stalked off.

Thráin looked one by one at the other lords with hopeful lasses. "Let that be ah lesson in your behavior. One will be chosen an the others are expected ta be good sports an wish the lucky lass good luck. Ye are invited to the Durin dining hall for breakfast, an I trust your daughters will be under control. Soon, Thorin will escort each available lass on ah stroll with chaperones. He will start weeding them out. When one is told they are eliminated, the families will make ta return ta yer homes when caravans depart. This will be ah quick courtship so caravans can beat the snows over the Misty Mountains."

"And if ah lass is chosen from the White Mountains?" Thráin's brother-in-law asked.

Thráin grinned at him. "Sure are we?"

"Ye bet I am." Fárin returned the exact satisfied toothy grin.

"I'll let Dis choose names from ah pot an we'll have ah drawing ta see who goes in what order."

"I agree." Gandalf audibly approved.

"One more order of business," Thráin decreed. He looked at the lords until seeing the one he was after. "Lord Dóvad." All eyes turned to the unrepentant dwarf. "Are ye done fighting Durin's?"

"Aye, I lost my temper out on the battlefield. It won't happen again."

"I gotta hear this story," Balin uttered and several heads nodded, so those involved regaled everyone with the bought between Dóvad and Thorin.

"Ye are forgiven," Thráin stated. "I reckon if positions reversed, I'd be in ah fighten bad mood also." He looked at the lords with daughters. "One of ye will be my equal in the title grandfather. Don't disappoint me. That's all I have. Gather the dams an young an we'll see if Bombur's cooks are as skilled as he is."

Bombur snorted. "That'll be the day."

A messenger was waiting when the crowd of short dwarves and one towering wizard exited Thráin's conference room. "M'lord," the messenger bowed to Thráin. "I am ta inform ye that the elves left ta dine with their kind this morning, but they will join ye for supper. Also, Lady Galadriel says ta Lord Dáin that she informed Lady Azie her son is in the hands of elves an not ta take ye ta task."

Dáin let a flicker of relief enter his eyes and snorted. "I'm not scared of my wife."

Everyone laughed.

Thráin slapped him on the shoulder as he passed. "Then I expect ye will be escorting her personally ta breakfast. If memory serves me, ye are all talk."

Thorin laughed as he walked past.

"Ye will be just like me someday, Thorin," Dáin called at his retreating back.

* * *

Galadriel and Arwen entered the tent of Círdan after checking on Elrohir, who was still sleeping. Servants bowed while Celeborn and Elrond raised their eyebrows.

Glorfindel quickly departed the tent and spoke to Calendhel, who was charged with the safety of the elleth. "You were supposed to send a runner if they left the mountain."

"They didn't give me a chance," Calendhel defended. "They departed their rooms and said to escort them here. I tried to get her to stay until we secured her path, but she waved me off."

"Eat and find twenty elves not injured to replace your guarding of the ladies," Glorfindel ordered and hastened back into the tent.

Galadriel was eating at the table reserved for Círdan and his handpicked guests; leaders of elven Middle Earth. The younger elves and lesser lords shared a second table and servants served the finest fare they could muster under circumstances. Still the table was graced with fruit; fish caught that morning and biscuits smothered in butter and wild honey.

"I insisted that Thráin have a trade summit while we are here," Círdan stated. "He agreed and the date is in two days. He said today that he needed to merge his newest clans into a homogeneous unit and get Thorin started in the courting process." He looked at Galadriel. "Did you disclose your information to Thráin?"

She swallowed her bite of fish before responding. "Not yet. I will meet with him this afternoon privately and inform him. What he does with the information we will wait and see. I saw the book."

Thranduil looked intrigued. "Is it unharmed?"

"Yes. Ríllas and you are the last entries. Arwen will be next and most likely the last before the book is carried to the shores of Aman and presented to the three High Kings."

"I'm curious," Thranduil queried, "are there more such books?"

"Yes; Lord Oromë logged our major battles and will most likely the final defeat of Sauron. It too will be a gift to the High Kings and reside in a special Hall in the library of Taniquetil."

Glorfindel nodded in remembrance. "I've been to that library many times. It carries visual accounts of many special moments; both sides of the sea. Elves come from all over to visit and relive or view history from the dawn of Arda."

Celeborn raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "I've seen that book many times and it is just pictures and Cirth."

"In the right hands, it comes to life," his wife reminded him.

Legolas entered and hurried to Celeborn. "I found a large group of orcs hiding in an unoccupied building in Dale. They didn't challenge me, but ran into the woods and scattered. I saw them carting off a young female and when we did a head count, it was King Bard's eldest daughter carried away.

Elrond thought he was going to faint as memories flooded back. He felt hands on his shoulders and knew his two trusted advisors were all that kept his face from the dirt.

"Prepare to ride," Celeborn mentally shouted and there was a scurry as elves left their breakfast and ran for horses grazing on the nearby hill where grass was thick and verdant with recent rains.

"Stay with our lord," Glorfindel instructed Erestor and accepted the reins from Elladan for his horse.

"Where is Bard?" Elrond managed.

"Being restrained by his warriors," Legolas replied. "I suggested that elves are better equipped to track and return his daughter."

"You will make a wise king in due time," Elrond complimented him.

Legolas' countenance darkened. "I hope that day never comes."

Thranduil mounted his elk and with Celeborn by his side, took the lead and they rushed into the woods with two hundred elves, seeking and killing any orc in their path.

Erestor rarely ever called out to the Lady of the Golden Wood, but today, he made an exception. _'M'lady.'_

Galadriel appeared almost immediately and saw the tattered state her son-in-law was in. "Elrond, they will find her today."

Elrond spun on her, eyes full of wrath. "I believe that's what Celeborn told my iôns in Caradhras Pass. You see how that turned out." He took a deep breath and shook Erestor's hand off his shoulder. "I'm visiting King Bard." Without a backwards glance, he mentally called for his horse.

"Go with him, mellon-nín," Galadriel advised and turned to find Arwen, white with fear, listening. Her grandmother's instincts took over. "Come, we are needed in the mountain."

* * *

Dáin straightened his spine and pushed the door to his chambers open. As expected, he was greeted by elder dams and his daughter. "Come, breakfast is ready," he blustered rapidly.

"And our son?" Azie's quiet voice told him she didn't buy his haste.

"Being tended for ah scratch by the elves. Now, I'm hungry." He motioned at the door.

"Is it a scratch along the line that Thorin Oakenshield received?" Aneht took up the next question.

"Not hardly," he scoffed.

"Did you see for yourself or take the word of someone?" Azie fired at him.

"I took the word of our Crown Prince, who did see him. If you remember, I was ah tad wee busy driving orcs from yer bedchamber." He let a fair amount of scorn creep in.

"I want to see him," Azie ordered and stared him in the eyes.

Dáin let his eyes drift to her growing midsection and sighed. "Please join me for breakfast with the king an I'll give ah detailed report ta ye."

"If he is injured beyond a scratch, Dáin Ironfoot, I'll pray to Mahal every day until this bairn is born that it is a girl." Even though an elf paid them an early morning visit and assured them the injury was minor, they felt the need to harass Dáin.

Seeing the fight was over, Dáin grinned and held out his arm for her to slip a delicate hand in the crook of his elbow. "I'm not Balin."


	41. 41 Princess Without A Cause

"Celeborn and Thranduil should have your daughter home for the luncheon hosted by King Thráin," Elrond simply stated and kept his face impassive while watching the human king pace back and forth.

"She must be so frightened," Bard's soft reply almost brought tears to Elrond's eyes. Finally the king stopped in front of the taller elf. He also encompassed Lord Erestor in his pleading expression. "She fought them when they invaded our home at Lake-town. That night, she and the other children slept in my bed for fright. I suppose you've never lost one of your females to orcs," he ended his venting.

Erestor made a rare public show among elves. He placed a warning hand on Elrond's shoulder and answered. "Elrond's wife was captured and tortured."

Bard's eyes widened in stunned dawning. "I beg forgiveness," he hastily breathed softly.

Elrond shook his head. "It means I understand your pain from firsthand knowledge. Their lead is short, so I expect them to return shortly with Princess Sigrid. I think bringing her to the mountain for our repast will help her forget. It will do her good to meet the dwarven dams of whom she will be equal."

"Can we go also?"

Three heads turned to see Bard's younger two silently eavesdropping.

Bard quickened to their sides and dropped to a knee, drawing Tilda to his chest. "Of course you two can come. I don't want any of you from my sight right now." As he rose, his free hand gripped Bain's shoulder.

"My daughter is with me and is most interested in meeting your children and all of Dale," Elrond said in an attempt to forgo Bard's worry. "I also have a human child I am raising with me this trip."

Bain and Tilda looked at the elf lord with interest.

"I should like your children to show him around. Also, Lord Glóin's son, Gimli, is at the mountain for a few days until the next caravan leaves for the Iron Hills. He will be important in your children's lives and someday will come to live at Erebor."

"We met Thorin Stonehelm of the Iron Hills," Bain bravely addressed the mighty lord, uncertain if it was proper. He was relieved when his father didn't tell him to be seen only.

' _Maybe now is the time to request a private meeting and discuss Elessar,'_ Erestor mentally told Elrond.

"Do you have a moment for a private matter?" Elrond responded without giving any sign a mental suggestion entered his mind.

"I suppose, but am not certain I can give any matter my full attention," Bard honestly replied and motioned the elves to follow him. He paused and looked at his trusted lieutenant and second, Lord Theigard. "Come immediately if you spot anything and please watch the children."

Theigard nodded and motioned Bain and Tilda to his side. "I'm climbing to the upper wall. Help spot for me."

Normally they weren't allowed that high due to damaged areas and Tilda was told not to let go of his hand. He smirked at Bain. "You, have already taken a tall dive, so know what it feels like to fall."

Bain shuttered in memory of his and Bard's fall from the tower in Lake-town. "I'll be careful. No water here to break my fall."

Inside his newly renovated office, he motioned for his guests to sit. "I know it's still early, but do you wish a glass of wine?" He played the courteous host.

Elrond and Erestor gave identical shakes of their heads.

"I've come to inquire about your daughter, Tilda," Elrond started and saw surprise plastered all over Bard's face. "I am seeking a future alliance with Dale and would cement it with a marriage of my human son, Elessar, to your youngest daughter."

Bard sat in stunned silence, eyes never leaving Elrond's face and looking for a joke in his offer. Never in his life would he expect an elf to have a conversation of this nature with him. He always figured his children would find a mate among their peers and didn't give an arranged marriage a second thought. When Elrond returned his gaze with sobriety, he asked, "Why do you wish my daughter? Can't the boy choose his own wife?"

"His linage is a secret and even he doesn't know who he is," Elrond finally decided admitting that much was safe. "I tell you this in confidence of course for his safety and not disclose our conversation."

"There is someone who wishes to harm a human child?" Bard wasn't sure he believed what he was hearing, but coming from the elves, it had to be true.

"Unfortunately, he has enemies more powerful than even my skills can protect. His destiny is set and he will be a great chieftain of the Dúnedain and must have a wife to match his stature."

"I won't barter my children's happiness, even for intrigue of mysterious blood lines," Bard firmly stated. The thought of selecting a husband like this nauseated him. Then he remembered what was happening in the mountain and felt sympathy for Thorin all the sudden. "And why my youngest? Cannot he wed Sigrid?"

Elrond's face was inscrutable. "The lad is only eleven and must undergo years of training, both in leadership and fighting. Your youngest would be a natural choice for when she reaches the age of twenty. He will be only four years older. I'm sure your eldest will be long wed by then."

Bard sighed. "You mentioned cementing an alliance with Dale. How will my answer affect that?"

Elrond heard Erestor laughing in his mind. _'He is learning fast.'_

"If you were to be a father-in-law to my adopted son, elves would be honor bound to protect your realm. I could make an arrangement with Thranduil for his warriors to extend Dale within their boundaries. That way you won't need a standing army."

"I thought I was going to make an arrangement with King Thráin and use his standing army." Bard wasn't buying Elrond's line and wondered what the elves were hiding.

"You don't want dwarves in your town as guards. Even Lord Girion didn't use dwarves, but his own men for town peacekeeping. I'm sure if you are attacked, dwarves are your first line of defense and the mountain a safe haven. I'm offering patrols along the belt where your farms will be located. Steady patrols will keep bandits and orcs at bay."

"So if you don't get my daughter; I don't get elven patrols? Is that how you are summarizing it?" Bard remained stoic and hoped looked kingly.

"Correct," Elrond succinctly replied.

"I can't do that to my daughter; I'm sorry," Bard looked remorseful. "If she hasn't found a husband by the age you request, send the boy and see if they find a marriage agreeable between them. That's the best I can do." He wisely continued. "If I knew all about the boy and who he is, maybe I could be persuaded."

"You are much improved in negotiating," Erestor blurted out and found himself on the receiving end of an Elrond glare.

Elrond weighed his options; his daughter or the safety of the boy who held the key to defeating Sauron. He stood and bowed his head. "I will consider your offer."

Bard also rose and gave a like bob of his head. "As will I."

They moved upwards until on the highest level, where they joined Theigard and the children.

Tilda let go of Theigard's hand and moved carefully to her father, where he picked her up so she could see better. He saw the elves looking at her and moved a few steps away, turning her so he was between them. He would be sure to mention his strange conversation with Thráin and ask his input on who the male child living with elves was.

* * *

Thráin stood and hollered out, "One last item before we adjourn. Thorin is opening the repaired gold smelting caverns. All the Company is ordered to join him and any lord and their families are also welcome. Please bring your daughters, so the lucky chosen one is familiar with the heart of Erebor's wealth making business. Thank you for coming." He abruptly left the dining area with guards taking up positions fore and aft.

Dis allowed Thorin to escort her back to their shared home and he was anxious to depart the ambitious lasses and their parents. He forced a faux pleasantness and greeted each family personally as they entered the dining area. He didn't spend more than a minute with each before moving on and finally taking his spot to his father's left at the head table. Word of Lord Pýirt's disgrace and banishment circled the room of newcomers and parents were thankfully on their best behavior.

Safely inside Thorin's chambers, Dis pulled her beard off with a sigh of relief. "I am ready to assume what would be mother Lis' duties." She shed her white ermine stole and handed it to her servant.

Thorin waited patiently for her to continue and stalked to look out the glass door overlooking the patio and Dale.

"Which one are you leaning towards, Thorin?"

"Fili as my heir," he deflected and scowled at her.

"We both secretly wish that to be so, but Father is set on the line of males unbroken. Sometimes I feel dams are treated as second class, instead of the so-called pedestal we are claimed to be on."

"Have I ever treated you as anything but my equal," he softened his tone considerably.

"Never you or Frerin. I want to be more than a figurehead in this mountain. I know you will be swamped with your duties as Crown Prince, but I'm just a princess without a cause. Now that the boys are grown, I need something."

"Or someone?" he astutely inserted before she prattled on.

"You know that cannot be," she protested and her face burned with forbidden memories of what it would be to be held by a certain someone.

He smiled. "Father is the final judge of that and if the king decrees you are eligible to wed again, I'm sure a certain General will be first in line for your hand."

"Have you heard something?" Her blue eyes snapped wide in shock and she was just learning the fable might be more than a tale told to young lasses.

"I'll not say. Now you were complaining about needing duties. First we must ensure your place is at the head of all dams. Gather those that would challenge you and bring them to my speech." He looked at the large grandfather clock. "I have to be there in two hours. During my speech, I'll introduce you as ranking dam. I'm sure Aneht, Azie and the three dams that raised you will protest, but not to my face. Leave everything to me." He patted her on the shoulder and disappeared to his private office to work on his notes.

* * *

Lári held a light blue dress up to Lióni. "Wear this one to the opening. It makes your eyes pale. You are so lucky to have eyes that change color with every new gown. You get that from your father's side of the family and have your grandmother Vladia's eyes."

Lióni rolled hers and snarked, "She can have them back. Do we really have to attend a boring mining opening?"

"You know the answer to that. You are in contention to be queen of this mountain and I expect you to start acting like royalty. No more fighting with the dwarrow…"

"Lord Balin's daughter, Bát, spars with them also. Can I at least spar with her?"

"I'll find out," Lári compromised and left her to dress, while she quickly changed. She didn't want to appear so poor, she couldn't change at least three times a day for a week. Now that they were back in her childhood home she availed herself to all their dams' jewelry and insured Lióni sported different pieces each time they were forced into the company of rival ladies. She knew her daughter was adorned wealthier than all the other lasses, both in gowns and jewelry.

Dóvad meanwhile was outside the office of the king, seeking an audience, with it seemed most of the lords or anyone powerful enough to seek the ear of the king. He figured first he would be escorted to Balin's office for a pre-screening meeting and was waiting for a clerk to call the name he gave when entering the chambers of those who ruled the mountain.

"Lord Dóvad of Jötunheim," the clerk called out after about an hour of cooling his heels beside various other lords. He quickly approached and nodded. He was led down a hall and the page knocked on a door.

The servant, Huf, opened and motioned him into the room. He was stunned to see Thráin, Dáin, Balin, Nori, Bofur and Ori present. He glanced around and decided this must be the king's office; mainly because Thráin sat behind a massive desk.

"State yer cause," Dáin ordered.

He addressed the king, which appeared to be reading something. "I'm here on behalf of my son. Is he ta remain in jail?"

All except Thráin laughed and Balin answered. "We are having a bit of sport with him tonight to entertain our elven guests. As you know, he wants to fight a Durin. Ori here," he pointed at the young Durin, "isn't competing, so it's between Tóvad and three young Durin's. He can choose, Fili, Kili or young Gimli. Gimli isn't full grown, so it probably it won't be a fair fight if he is chosen, and young Thorin Stonehelm is in the elven healing tents, so not an option; although like Gimli, he is but a youth. Fili will give him a good workout and he won't win, but might save face."

"Ye seem sure my son isn't capable of standing his own against ah Durin. He is ah fine soldier an trained by me."

Thráin let it known he was listening when he belted out a laugh. "I seem ta remember how well ye did against ah Durin. I was hoping for ah better match."

Dóvad's ears burned, but he kept his face from showing emotion. "Point taken. If my son wins?"

"He goes ah round with Thorin," Thráin replied. "It would be in his best interest ta lose."

"Is that all?" Balin asked, wanting to move the line seeking audience with the king along.

"If my lad is ta fail, it will take the Crown Prince ta put him down," Dóvad haughtily responded with pride. He bowed and left.

Thráin chuckled. "I hope his lad chooses Gimli then. Fili is growing stronger with each battle an Kili moves faster than ever." He finished reading the letter from Círdan. "We have ah list an bill from the elves. It says here that we owe Lord Celeborn ah hundred pounds of gold; Lord Círdan ah thousand pounds of gold or equivalent in wine; King Thranduil wants five hundred pounds of gold and gems equally divided for allowing dwarves ta cross his lands. Lord Elrond requests ah hundred pounds of gold and twenty pounds of gems for guarding said dwarves. They must have sat up all night figuring what they want from me." He looked at Balin. "Send ah note to the elves that the king will negotiate their demands when we have our summit, and send in the next petty complainer."

* * *

Pýirt mingled with caravan drivers going to the Iron Hills. Shamed at the hands of the king left bile in his throat. He knew his family would suffer humiliation for his mendacious manipulation. Already he and his wife were pointing fingers at each other. He by chance overheard a conversation of two common dwarves.

"I saw Prince Thorin when he was brought back ta the caravan after the black wizard almost killed him. He rode his own pony for two days ta catch up. He an his father have ta be the two toughest Durin's ever."

"Is it true, the dead dam was wife of Lord Skafid?"

The story ye heard is true an it was Lord Skafid's wife. He was with his son, Trafid, at Jötunheim an the lad was ta wed Lord Dóvad's lass until Thorin showed up an sported her off ta here for ah Durin. Trafid is still looking for ah lass of quality."

Pýirt stopped listening and formulated a plan. Hurrying to the king's office, he was stopped by a guard. "State yer name an business."

"Lord Pýirt, an I seek an audience with the king."

The guard turned and hand signaled to someone in fancy clothes that Pýirt didn't recognize. He hurried away leaving both of them awaiting a response. Soon he returned, "The king will see you now, Lord Pýirt." He led the disgraced lord down a hall and knocked on a heavy wooden engraved door.

Picket opened and allowed both of them to enter.

It was Pýirt's first visit to the king's personal office and he was duly impressed. His eyes were drawn to the collection of Durin's around the large desk.

"That will be all, Eket."

Pýirt now had a name to the fancy dwarf when he left the room.

Balin motioned for him to come closer. "I thought you had your orders?"

"I have ah proposal….not for me," he raised his hands when it looked like Dáin might pitch him out, "for my daughter." He stopped and waited.

Balin nodded for him to continue.

"I understand Lord Skafid's son was supposed ta wed the lass from Jötunheim?"

"Get on with it," Dáin snapped. He wanted to get to the refinery and not miss any of Thorin's speech.

"I am offering my daughter ta Lord Skafid's son." He paused and waited for a response.

Thráin looked up from his papers. "And you want me to adjust your sentence?" He spoke formally and pierced the disgraced lord with his one eye.

"I would beg ah small group of warriors an take my family east ta Carni an halls of Lord Skafid. He should be out of morning for his wife an ready ta cheer up with ah wedding."

Thráin glanced around the room and Balin hand signaled from his place at the far end of the desk with hands out of sight of any petitioner.

 _I say let them leave and good riddance._ Balin signed

Thráin nodded. "Agreed, next."

Pýirt returned to his assigned quarters with a jubilant bounce in his step. "I had an audience with the king," he announced the moment he slammed the door shut. He proceeded to fill them in and ended with, "I know ye had yer heart set on Thorin, but ah lord isn't nothing ta scoff at, an he's young."

Byrta remembered her humiliation and hadn't set one foot outside the chambers and couldn't believe it hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours since her shameful display. "I suppose word will travel fast of my sentence. Can we leave soon?"

"Aye, lass, we leave with the next caravan ta the Iron Mountains. From there, we will hire guards for the eastward journey." Done with his dams, he grabbed a pitcher of ale and tankard. His belch filled the room.

* * *

Thorin nodded to his elven guests. "Lord Elrond, Lady Gilraen and master Elessar, welcome to Erebor, mightiest halls of all dwarves. He looked at Erestor. "Welcome back, Lord Erestor. He greeted Círdan and the selection of elves, noticing several were missing. Before he could speak, Bard filled him in.

"I heard elven horns and express sorrow at what your daughter must be experiencing. She was brave when orcs attacked your home in Lake-town and I am certain her bravery remains intact." Thorin gave a heartening idiom that slightly lifted Bard's spirit.

"Lord Elrond brought me and the children to take our minds off what we cannot control," Bard softly answered. He was still in shock at his daughter's kidnaping and the proposal put forth by Elrond.

"May I interrupt?" Elrond requested of Thorin. He noticed Thorin was only accompanied by Dori, who stood back with a big smile.

Thorin nodded.

Elrond drew Elessar to his side. "This is my adopted son, Elessar. I wish to introduce him to your children, King Bard." Elrond waited for Bard to give consent.

Bard looked at the boy and saw a strong looking lad, tall for his eleven years and sporting unusual elven grey eyes. "My son, Bain and daughter, Tilda," he likewise pulled his kids forward so they were looking at each other. Maybe Bain can show Elessar around Dale?" He asked Elrond.

"And Elessar can show Bain the elven camp," Elrond agreed, relieved Bard seemed to be cooperating somewhat.

Thorin resumed his host duties and with a quick hand signal to a guard became tour guide and took his group to part of the mountain they'd never seen on previous visits, the gold mines.

All was in order with miners on one side and Durin's and guest opposite with newly rebuilt mining lines with ore buckets on cables and filled with raw material between. His loquacious speech was mixed with self-depreciating humor as he described riding the river of molten gold to the edge and jumping onto the chain. "…and I wish to end my longwinded speech by introducing to the miners, the leading dam of Erebor, my sister, Lady Dis." He held out his hand for her to take. "Lady Dis will be in charge of all females, from infant to elderly. She will take charge of my wife, when I procure one, and will teach her how to rule behind the scenes, like our grandmother did." He cast a look at the dams behind her. He didn't see malice and was both relieved and disappointed. "Her ladies in waiting are Lady Aneht, Lady Azie, Lady Dwin, Lady Meeli, Lady Dioari and Lady Gellett. Lasses assigned for lady in waiting training are Lass, Aneh, Lass Cái and Lass Bát." Proud he memorized them in the proper order, he turned back to the miners. "Learn their names and faces. Any disrespect will be harshly dealt with. He turned back to the dams. "Ladies, remove your beards so they can memorize your faces."

Conscious of outsiders, they turned their backs as best they could to the humans and elves and did as Thorin bade. They moved down a long line of miners, who bowed when they passed. Rejoining Durin's, Thorin motioned for them to cover their faces. Usually this ceremony was private, but these were changing times.

The hopeful lasses vying for Thorin's hand hoped to someday be in that august lineup and introduced near the top of the names, or if queen, the very top. They knew Lady Dis would lose her spot once Thorin wed.

Even Lióni allowed herself to be drawn in while listening to Thorin's deep voice and interesting tale of fighting Smaug in this very chamber, and wondered what it would feel like to stand with leading ladies of all dwarves.

Thorin thanked everyone for coming and led his group topside and to a large dining hall none had ever seen before.

Galadriel looked around and let insight and mind reading fill in the blanks. This was a rarely used room and reserved for formal functions. She wondered if another ceremony were to take place and for once dwarven minds were shrouded. She knew the Valar was behind it, so accepted a plate of food from a serving dwarf and waited.

A horn sounded and all talking and eating ceased as King Thráin, with his bejeweled diadem and robes made an entrance. Thorin rose and bowed to his father. Thráin seated at the head of a long table with Thorin to his left and Dáin the right. Elves, Bard and Durin's interspersed along the table.

Gandalf took his customary place opposite the king and found his companions to be Círdan on one hand and Galadriel the other. He was now certain the busy dwarves who were seating everyone, were given orders. Also, the place beside Galadriel was conspicuously empty, as were others up and down the table. His eyes caught Thráin's and the dwarf winked at him.

Gandalf glared back. Now he was certain the no-good dwarf was up to something.


	42. 42 Courtship Rules

Thráin openly grinned down the table at Gandalf and the wizard knew he was withholding information. He took a drink of ale and raised it in a silent toast just as the door was thrown open and the missing elves entered with Sigrid on the arm of Lord Glorfindel.

Breathing a great sigh of relief and heart pounding, Bard jumped up and snagged her to him in a bone crushing squeeze. Pulling back, he examined her and then covered her brow and cheeks with kisses. Other than dirty spots on her dress, she looked hale. "Did they lay a hand on you?"

"Other than to bind and gag me, no, Da," she assured him.

He looked at the elves for confirmation and saw several nods.

"Excuse me, but I am to escort Princess Sigrid to her brother and sister for her meal." A polite dwarf stood at Bard's left elbow.

With one more quick hug, he released and turned back to the elves. "Thank you," he simply stated.

Thranduil, Celeborn and Glorfindel were led to Thráin's table, while the lesser lords sat with Taíban, Erak, Fili, Kili and assorted Durin's and Company. Another long table was for dwarven dams and lasses and preceded over by Aneht, Azie's mother.

Celeborn settled beside his wife and she slipped a perfectly manicured hand to his thigh and they linked fëas; hers searching for the minutest scratch. Across the table from him sat Princess Dis and he inwardly groaned of what two females most likely would discuss. _'Keep the chatter about weddings to a minimal.'_

Galadriel withdrew her hand and smiled pleasantly at the dwarf, decked in a richly jeweled beard made from dark hair. "What is your duty in the courtship phase?"

Surprised the grandest of all elven ladies in Middle Earth deigned to speak with her, Dis carefully constructed her answer. Before she could reply, to her right, Dwalin groaned, "Not while I'm eating, Dis."

Her moment of anxiety ended and her blue eyes blazed. "I've never seen your appetite affected by conversation. I'm sure we could discuss your obnoxious eating habits, from the vile things you've been known to shove in your pie hole to the ring of crumbs left around the plate." She pointed to where a bean had already been shoved out of the way and ended on the table cloth. Convinced she put him in his place, turned back to the elven royalty across from her. She caught the quirk of a lip from the elf and ignored him as another disgusting warrior type that didn't think anything of regaling them with bloody battles while trying to dine.

Galadriel watched Dwalin grin openly and spear the bean with his fork and shove it in his mouth before focusing on the dam. She saw a look of adoration cross his face before he returned to his fare.

' _Now you know why it is useless to interact with dwarves,'_ Celeborn silently raged at her.

Eavesdropping, Círdan interjected himself into the conversation, but not quietly for Mithrandir's sake. "I for one am most interested in how the courtship phase for Thorin will progress."

Gandalf threw a grin at the scowling Celeborn, while Círdan smiled down at Dis, seated beside him.

"Please proceed, Princess Dis," Círdan quietly requested, so not to disturb another conversation between the next group that consisted of Elrond, two down from Dwalin and across from Fengel. They appeared to be in some sort of argument and he wished for more congenial conversation.

"The dams have traditionally led the courting phase and as head dam, I will choose each group to escort Thorin from our side of the family. I may even take a turn or two in the procession. I will figure which ones Thorin is agreeable to, so watch for me in the party."

"My mirror showed me who will be chosen." Galadriel decided share that bit of knowledge.

Dis looked pleased. "Then we shall see if your mirror is correct."

Galadriel liked her directness and a conversation ensued as they dined, while lurking servants kept wine and water glasses full. Plates were discretely replaced with each course and Círdan ignored Celeborn and quite enjoyed the company of the ladies.

They continued chatting politely about weddings of past generations; each imparting knowledge and Dis started relaxing around the beautiful elf. In the end, she invited both Galadriel and Arwen to attend a courtship walk. She was sure she was the first dwarf to ever extend such courtesy outside their race and hoped her father didn't forbid and make her look bad.

* * *

Fengel didn't bother to hide the rage in his tone while speaking to the great elven lord. "You mean to tell me if Lord Celeborn were to die, you would take control of my lands?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying," Elrond, without showing facial expression, replied. "Men are so short lived, whenever you take control, war inevitably breaks out every hundred years. Elves stabilize your lives." As Fengel showed rage, Elrond finally let disdain creep in.

Bard found himself tuning Elrond and Fengel out and listening to Glorfindel and Thranduil tell of the rescue.

Thranduil, as if bored, stated, "Sigrid was upon the back of a Warg when we caught up with the vile creatures deep in my forest. Elrond's twins and my son took point and cut a path through the middle of them."

"And, with my superior skills, it fell to me to place an arrow over the shoulder of your daughter and into the neck of the orc she was tied to. I allowed Celeborn the killing shot at the same time of the Warg. Lass Sigrid's feet didn't touch dirt before she was before me on Asfaloth and I undoing her bonds."

"Our forces found and killed all the orcs. We did keep one alive for interrogation," Thranduil continued as if Glorfindel hadn't interrupted. He noticed everyone from King Thráin to the person between them, Lord Dáin, listened raptly and liked to tell a good story, so continued while they ate.

* * *

Repast finished and desert and hot drinks consumed when Thráin jumped on his chair and motioned for a guard to blow his horn. Talk immediately ceased and he smiled around the room. "I want ta thank everyone for coming and have ah wee bit of business that concerns dwarves an elves, but should prove ah fair amount of entertainment for our human guests; so please bear with me for ah bit."

He looked around and saw another servant waiting and nodded. The dwarf gave a quick hand signal, which made Thráin smile widely. Turning back, he focused on Lord Círdan. "Your wine and ale is delivered ta yer camp and all the gold we owe packed an waiting for me ta personally hand it over before ye leave. Also, I added ah hundred pounds of rare gems as ah bonus."

"You didn't give me and Celeborn gems," Thranduil howled in protest, while everyone laughed.

Thráin raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Are ye forgettin so soon, the starlight gems of Lasgalen?"

Again the room guffawed at Thranduil's expense.

"You owed them to me. You didn't give me a hundred pounds out of the goodness of your tiny dwarven heart," Thranduil stated his rational.

"Unlike Lord Círdan, you didn't provide your army or copious amounts of food," Thráin reminded him and this time the room remained silent, each who was old enough to remember, reflecting on those dark days.

Thranduil shrugged his acceptance.

Thráin looked at Elrond next. "Your barrels are likewise delivered an I better not hear one word of protest that we shorted ye."

Elrond glared back. "Now I will personally send Glorfindel to recount. Can't trust dwarves."

Thráin grinned, hoping for that answer. He added five barrels of wine for Elrond fighting and another bag of gold weighing fifty pounds for when Elrond departed. He did likewise for Celeborn, but decided to let both lords discover his generosity for themselves.

"Next on my agenda is for the lords with lasses. I know each of ye expects yer lass will win Thorin's hand an I assure ye; I have more Durin's an fine lord's here that are seeking wives. Yer daughters won't go away empty handed." He motioned for another servant, who appeared, holding a stoneware jar. "Inside are the names of our lasses. Each name Lady Dis draws will be the order they take their courting walk with Thorin. We will draw in the morning all names so ye know yer order. Courtship walks start right after that with the first name an how long Thorin deems fit. Thorin will then tell me two or three he has settled on ta have ah second walk. That will continue until Thorin has made his choice. The rest will be paired with other Durin's or lord's. Dis is in charge of all courting. . . .except her own that is."

There were confused murmurings among the dwarves and much interest from the elves, humans and Gandalf.

Gandalf hoped what Thráin was planning wouldn't start a civil war in the mountain and decided he would stay as long as needed to right the blundering s of the dwarves.

"After my return from captivity, I learned the sad fate of Dis' fading bond."

Dis covered her face with her napkin in shame, face burning red in humiliation. How dare he expose her secret shame like this? Now the entire mountain would whisper behind her back and she could never show her face again. Maybe she would run away, she decided.

"Daughter, look at me," Thráin commanded kindly.

Dis lowered her napkin and all at the table could see tears in her bright blue eyes.

"Hundreds of years ago, ah Durin dam married ah lord an he was killed when the dwarves fled Moria. She was left with three young dwarflings an her bond faded, like yours. King Náin I was her brother. In the chaos of Durin's Bane, she was mostly forgotten an quietly allowed ta remarry an had ah son. That son had subsequent sons until the son, Dwili, was born. I believe Mahal did this ta ye for ah reason. So ye can wed yer true love an have more elflings, an who knows, maybe ah dwarfling will once again provide crucial bloodlines. We can't know the mind of Mahal, but don't be ashamed of the gift he gave ye, daughter." Thráin looked at Dwalin. "I hereby grant ye leave ta court my daughter, Dwalin. Ye will follow the courtship rules."

Dwalin's eyes were large and he cast a glanced sideways. "Aye, King Thráin. I accept an ask my brother ta be in the courtship procession."

There was silence for the space of two heartbeats while dwarves absorbed this most unusual request, and then they laughed and shouted insults at the king's advisor; most calling him a dam wannabe or dam in disguise.

Balin, sitting between Fengel and Erestor, jumped up on his chair and raised his hands. When joviality died down, he issued his reply. "I hereby accept the honor my brother entrusted with me. What dam do I take my lead from?"

"None other than Lady Aneht," Thráin decreed and saw it pleased the old dam and figured any ruffled feathers were now smoothed over. "Lady Aneht, ye will be in charge of Dis' courting." He sighed dramatically. "The things ah king has ta do."

Again the room laughed and it pleased him elves and men joined in.

Dis felt a hand search for hers under the table and looked into Dwalin's caring gaze. She leaned over and whispered, but it carried clearly to the elves. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"Nay, Dis. I had ah secret desire your bond would fade and Mahal answered my prayers." He spoke softly and all elves at the table heard his declaration.

"You could wed a virgin," she protested.

Dwalin actually grinned at that. "I need ah woman of the world to teach me at my advanced years. You realize ye are getting ah virgin?"

Dis' cheeks over her beard flamed red. "I forgot momentarily, or you would be bonded."

"Lord Aulë made a mess of us in trying to recreate his own version of elves," Dwalin lamented and not too softly.

They turned back to the king and elves conversed privately at what they heard.

"Before I finish with my announcements, Gandalf looks like he has something ta say," Thráin called out. With a flourish, he turned the floor over to the wizard.

Gandalf stood and looked around the room. "Since we are all here, I want to congratulate men, elves and dwarves on the most successful campaign I've rarely seen in uniting against a common enemy. I trust this newfound comradery will continue until Sauron is driven from Middle Earth and the ring destroyed." He looked around at the sober faces and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I want to be first to congratulate Princess Dis and Lord Dwalin." He smiled kindly and reached a hand across Círdan and Dis and shook with Dwalin. He looked back to Thráin. "I have one more piece of business that has been sidelined what with our little skirmish and integration of dwarves in the mountain." He reached in his pocket and pulled a letter. Rounding the table, he handed it to Elrond. "Celeborn gave this to me in Lothlórien for when I was to meet you at Imladris. It is a letter from King Fengel's son, Thengel.

Elrond took it and placed it in his own robe.

' _King Fengel will want to know what it says,'_ Erestor silently reminded him.

' _I'll not give him the pleasure,'_ Elrond, just as swiftly responded and they both turned attention back to the speaker.

Gandalf sat and Thráin resumed. "I was regaled with the tale of Lass Sigrid's safe return by the elves over our meal. I want ta complement them on their veracity. I had my raven's flying an reporting as soon as it came ta my attention our neighbor suffered loss. They told the story just as my ravens did." He smiled at Thranduil and Glorfindel. "I assume you two only resort ta lying, cheating an stealing in business." He got his requisite laughter and mock outrage by the elven lords singled out.

Elrond stood. "I can vouch for them telling the truth and uprightness when recounting stories of war or hunting. You, however, King Thráin, nailed their personalities in trade." Once again the room burst out laughing while Elrond sat.

Thráin laughed with them and raised a hand. "I have one final announcement before we adjourn. Lord Dóvad's lad, ah young warrior of the tender age of ninety-three, has been cooling his heels in my dungeon since the night they arrived. Any attempts ta get the lad ta apologize for insulting the king an shaming his family have been met with scorn an challenge."

Thorin, hearing this for the first time, stood. "Father, let me teach the lad a lesson."

"Oh son, that is exactly what he wants. Ye saw through elven fëas the fight I had with his father?"

Thorin nodded, molars grinding and anger on his face.

"The lad is no match for ah Durin, but he insists on trying his hand at taking one down. I suggested our youth an Ori, he probably can beat."

There was laughter among the Durin's and Ori called out he would fight.

Thráin called for silence. "Also, Elrond sent word through Lord Erestor today that Thorin Stonehelm is ready ta be released tomorrow. I want ta thank the elves once again for superior healing of our injured. I could offer the lad, Thorin, for the match, but don't fancy ah beating by the dams."

Snickers were heard and threats from the dams sitting at another table.

"That leaves me no choice, but ta make our lads of age fight young Tóvad. Fili, I offered ye first an yer brother as backup, should he decide ye are too tough."

Fili stood from the secondary table. "I accept on behalf of Durin's," he shouted above a low din that arose.

"Let me fight him," Kili objected from a place near his brother. "It shouldn't be one of our best to teach Lord Dóvad's pup some manners."

Thráin sighed over laughter and his eyes met those of Lord Dóvad. "My first choices were young Thorin or Gimli."

Gimli perked up at the high honor the king bestowed upon him. He jumped up from his place beside Bain. "I'm not of majority, but can take him."

Thráin contemplated the proud, young future leaders with pride. "Ye make us proud, all of ye. Fili, the fight is yours to win or lose."

Fili grinned and his chest puffed out. "When is this fight to be held?"

"Right now." Thráin motioned for the door. "Anyone wishing ta watch the lads have ah go at each other, follow me. If not, thank ye for coming." He wasn't surprised to see everyone, including the human children escorted in his large group to the fighting arena.

* * *

Dóvad hurried down an empty hall where his son would be escorted and waited by the side door of the arena watching it fill up. He saw his wife in the reserved box for Durin's like before. He squinted, but couldn't make his daughter out amongst bearded lasses. In his gut, he knew his son would most likely lose, but was proud he didn't just roll over because of the Durin name.

Soon, all but a skeleton crew of guards, both for the elves, men of Dale and the mountain crowded into the large arena where Thráin fought Dóvad, only days before.

Dwalin was careful not to walk close to Dis, lest Aneht scold him, was surrounded by the Company and growled at their jesting. His threats of sparing in the ring didn't dampen their joy that Dwalin was courting the one he coveted for decades. He threw an arm around Fili's shoulders instead. "Nervous, Fili?"

"Excited, Father."

The progenitor nomenclature had everyone that heard catcalling and laughing, while Dwalin slapped the back of Fili's head, causing him to laugh loudly.

Thorin found himself walking beside his sister. He pulled her close with an arm around her shoulders. "I swear I didn't know father was going to do that to you."

"By the time I'm seated word will have circled the arena faster than lightning. This morning during your speech, I was so proud. Now I feel like something stuck to the bottom of your boot," she quietly lamented and tears burned once again.

He squeezed tightly and then released. "Ori," Thorin raised his voice and motioned the youth to his side. "How did father know about Náin I sister?"

Ori ducked his head. "Lord Erestor mentioned it to him one night and he asked me to find written record. I did and took it to him. There isn't much Lord Erestor doesn't know about dwarves. He knows more history than we have written. I'm writing a book on all he's told me, just in case it is missing from our halls."

Dioari moved her stout frame to walk beside her eldest, Dori. Her hair was silver and gown one made in the Blue Mountains. Her wardrobe had to be replaced for her mature figure. "How come you brothers are avoiding me?" At his surprised look, she waved a dismissive hand. "Nori has ditched quality time since he could run away as a small lad, but Ori clung to my skirts and he has hardly spoken more than welcome to Erebor to me."

Dori, hugged her briefly. "Your littlest is growing up an finding his place, ma. Give him space an he'll come back ta ye. He has many responsibilities now."

"I was hoping each of you would catch a lass," she confided and Dori expected that was her chief complaint, but it was easier to start with Ori.

"Well, after Thorin, I am second now that Dwalin is spoken for. Ya point ta the one ye want me ta pursue, an I'll have ye ah daughter-in-law by summer's end."

"You always did devil me," she smiled as she spoke. "Has Nori mended his thieving ways? Now that he is rich, he doesn't need to pursue what he always called his true trade."

Dori chuckled. "The elves got their property back an the king paid ah handsome fee also. Nori is instructed only ta pilfer in procuring evidence that might harm the mountain. He is ah floater an in charge of mines an procurement. He can show up anyplace an overhears much. He loves his new job." At the foot of the stairs to the Durin's box, he left her and joined the Durin clique.

Thráin stood in the center of the arena, the crown of golden ravens on his head and long black mink vest reached the floor. He stood proud as Dáin escorted Lord Dóvad and his son to him. Dóvad bowed respectfully and a general laughter rippled at the change in demeanor. Young Tóvad stood tall and proud. He didn't believe the story his father told of losing a fight to this old coot because the king was just that much better than him. His hand itched to swing his Warhammer, but he restrained himself, for General's Dwalin and Lötun stood just behind him. Taking a swing at the king without permission was a death sentence.

"I see in your eyes, master Tóvad, a proud warrior, which in time will lead your clan with wisdom. That is if you don't succumb to my grandson Fili's weapons this evening."

Tóvad frowned. "I was under the impression that I got ta choose my opponent?" He wasn't giving this imposter king a respectful title. The longer he sat in his solitary cell, the more he was convinced this one served the evil one of Mordor and would take all dwarves to their doom.

"You are not experienced enough to fight my seasoned warriors at your age." Thráin's formal tone held remarkable patience. "I will give you an equal match and a surprise." He looked around the arena and raised his voice. "Before the lads spar, we have two lasses that fancy themselves warriors. One is our own Balin's daughter, Bát, an underage lass and the other is Lord Dóvad's daughter, lass Lióni. Tonight, and ONLY tonight, I will permit them to spar for your entertainment. After this, both will be constrained to the roles they were born into."

There was a deafening roar of approval with shouts, whistles and thunderous clapping at the news.

From his place among the elite elves, Legolas leaned over and whispered to the twins. "Dwarves are so primitive. Elves venerate our elleth and don't subjugate them to a lesser station."

The twin's smirked, but wisely remained silent.

Galadriel sent a mental warning to Legolas, but allowed all of the firstborn to hear. _'Legolas, if one in ten is born female among the elves, even I would be placed as Lúthien in a tree to be cherished and protected.'_

' _I mean no disrespect to females of any race,'_ Legolas objected, _'but the dwarves only value males and it shows.'_

' _No, pen neth, dwarves value females higher than elves and men do their women,'_ Galadriel reasoned back.

' _So Killi would have cherished Tauriel?'_ Elladan asked.

Legolas snorted in disdain. _'He would have used her.'_

' _Enough bickering,'_ Círdan ordered the younger elves. Anyone watching the elves would only have seen stoic expressions.

Balin led his daughter from one entrance and Dori escorted Lióni until the lasses were with the dwarrow in the center of the arena. Both were sporting men's clothing and their own armor. Lighter weapons graced hands; a Warhammer in one and sword the other.

"The lass' will fight first, so everyone can see they would be worthy opponents should the need ever arise to put them in battle. Do you both know the rules of sparring?" Thráin inquired.

Both nodded, too nervous to speak. Neither had a clue the king arranged this meet just that morning with Balin, Dáin and Dwalin.

The dwarrow moved to the edge of the ring and the two lass' faced each other and took a fighting stance, Warhammers raised in salute.

Without warning, Lióni swung hard at Bát's side. The younger, less experienced lass tried first to parry and then jump aside, but indecision cost her a point.

"Point to Lióni," Balin roared. He could hardly watch and wondered who had been tutoring his youngest. If it was Dwalin, there would be hell to pay he vowed.

Angered to have lost a point, Bát, with swiftness of a Durin, pressed when most would have retreated. Caught off guard, Lióni heard Balin call point for Bát. Instead of following like maneuver, she danced back three steps and assessed her next move, looking for weakness. It was her first fight against a female and now she knew how hard it was because, like her, Bát didn't act like a raging dwarrow.

Bát saw a move and advanced, sword swinging so it had to be blocked. As expected, Lióni used her sword and it crossed her body leaving the side open.

Balin hollered, "Point for Bát."

Lióni desperately didn't want to lose to another Durin and a younger slip of a lass at that. She came back with all the strength she could weld with the Warhammer, driving the younger girl back.

"Point for Lióni," Balin yelled.

Knowing she hadn't been touched, Bát looked down. One foot was outside the ring. Stepping back in, she knew the next hit would either make or break her. She swung the Warhammer only to have it blocked and her shoulder jarred at the impact. Knowing she would look weak and foolish if she tried to heft it, she dropped the weapon and heard groans all around the chamber. Holding the lighter sword with both hands, she was determined not to retreat again.

Lióni knew the match was hers and advanced, deciding what weapon would make dwarven history. She decided the Warhammer was uniquely a dwarven weapon and swung at Bát's side in a wide arc.

Bát saw it coming and jumped back, once again not believing her good fortune for the arm was open. She slapped her sword against the chain mail and sparks flew. Everyone saw the hit and the place roared its delight one of their own and a Durin won the match.

Balin hollered out the winner, but his words were drowned out.

Dwalin forgot his anger and rushed to pick his niece up to his shoulder as the other Durin's gathered about to congratulate her and the chamber was on its feet.

Lióni stood alone in disbelief and wanted to cry, but warriors didn't spout tears when losing a bout. An arm circled her and she found her head on her father's shoulder.

"Ye fought very well, lass. It's not so easy going against ah Durin, is it?"

She shook her head and raised it proudly. Looking into her beloved father's eyes, she managed a watery smile. "I can't remember the last time I lost, but fighting another female made me want to win that much more."

Dóvad chuckled softly and led her to the winner. "And that's how dwarrow feel. They didn't really care if you won half as much as another dwarrow. They convinced themselves ye were allowed ta win."

"That hurts," she grumbled and forced a smile at the other lass. "Good match. It's too bad it is our one and only."

Bát reached out and hugged her. "Well, we had our moment and I will relish it forever. Come, let's get out of this hot mail and watch the next match." She looked for her father, who was talking to Dóvad about their incorrigible daughters. "Excuse me, Father, can you hold the match until we are presentable?"

"If you hurry," Balin gave his blessing.


	43. 43 Gróin

Elrond pulled the letter from his inside robe pocket and broke the wax seal.

' _Are you going to share, Elrond?'_ Celeborn asked.

The lord looked to the group of elven leaders seated near him in a private box overlooking the arena. Their support group that always traveled with the lords; guards and servants were seated as a group below them on benches carved from the stone walls, complete with intricate designs of past dwarven battles. If one were to walk around the empty arena, it told the story of dwarves from Durin I to King Thrór with smooth places waiting for future generations of Durin's and their story. There elves could guard the entrance to the box and be first line of defense should treacherous dwarves attack.

He looked at flawless Sindarin Cirth and mentally started reading to his small audience.

' _Lord Elrond,  
I greet you and yours. It is with great happiness and pride I inform the great lord of Eriador I am to wed a distant kin of yours, Morwen Steelsheen, niece of Prince Angelimir of Dol Amroth. She is daughter of Princess Myrah, sister of the prince.  
I met her on a trip to Belfalas and though she is many years my junior, I fell completely under her spell. I hope our union will bless us with a flock of young for my old age. I have decided to take the throne of my father when he dies; although my heart lies in the white city of Gondor where Sindarin is spoken as often as Westron.  
I will rule with kindness; a trait my father never learned, and I pray you do not judge my character by his pernicious attitude. I am my mother's son completely and she was a gentle woman, not cut out for the austere life of the Riddermark.  
For now I avoid going home to avoid contention that accompanies my father, even with his only son.  
Yours faithfully,  
Prince Thengel'_

Elrond handed the letter to Erestor. _'You know what to do with it.'_

' _I'm glad you received the letter in my presence,'_ Erestor mentally responded. _'Had Mithrandir managed to get it to Imladris while I was here, Glorfindel would by now have spilled on it and wiped his nose with the soggy paper.'_

Glorfindel smiled and lit from within and Gandalf realized he was missing a silent conversation. "Alright, no more silent talking," he grumbled. "I wish the Valar didn't strip my mental communication powers and force only communication through the ring with Elrond and Galadriel."

Erestor handed Gandalf the letter. "I was commenting on what Glorfindel would do had he received the letter for filing instead of me."

"I would have given it directly to Lindir," Elrond stated, "or Figwit."

From his place in the back corner of the box, Figwit straightened proudly at the complement.

"I have you all know I am very careful with tomes and papers," Glorfindel protested, but with mirth in his tone.

"Oh yes, you carefully have two books holding your window shut when you tossed your sword across your bedchamber and broke the latch," Elrond replied dryly.

"And I was gentle when wedging them in place." Glorfindel wasn't to be bested.

"I believe our next event is starting." Círdan's warning had elves in the box sitting as statues, eyes on the arena.

' _I hope Prince Thengel is telling the truth,'_ Celeborn mentally stated quietly to Elrond, although all in the box could hear their private mental conversation.

' _I refuse to believe anyone could be as self-centered as Fengel.'_ Elrond's endorsement of the prince gave them hope a brighter future was coming for Rohan.

In the next private compartment, Bard, Fingel, the kids and the other human's missed the exchange.

* * *

"Both of ye, suit up," Thráin commanded and the two young warriors started donning armor under the watchful eyes of Durin's and lords.

Óin squinted and caught the eye of Thorin, who was also frowning. Likewise, the seasoned Durin's and warriors around the arena focused on Fili getting ready.

Bát and Lióni, back in respectable gowns, slipped into the dam's booth and found two empty chairs side by side.

"I hope Thráin chooses you to marry Thorin," Bát stated out of the blue; her gaze switching from watching the next fighters to catch Lióni's reaction.

Lióni's breath caught that someone actually wished her to wed the next king, and she returned the gaze of one who looked all Durin, with her dark hair and blue eyes. "What have you heard?"

Bát looked smug. "Only that Thorin has spent time with you at Jötunheim unchaperoned." She got her confirmation at the blush that covered Lióni's smooth cheeks. Her beard was tucked in a pocket to be worn only when she left the booth.

"I thought he was the king then, and tried to quietly go around him, but broke a twig. He started talking to me and we entered the mountain together and rumors have abounded."

"And they've grown in the telling," Bát joked, just as they are embellishing of his time alone with Byrta."

Lióni's guts twisted and her blood boiled with jealously, and her hands clenched unknowingly. She forced them to relax and lifted her chin. "He is welcome to those addle headed tramps." She looked around to see if they were overheard. Luckily all were riveted on the Durin males below them.

Bát also glanced around and caught the eye of Dis, seated just behind them and one down in a seat of honor. Dis winked and smiled. Bát knew now that Lióni was still very much in play, even if her father and brother were contentious.

* * *

Fili saw the leaders giving him the stern, paternal eye. "What? I can take this stump jumper with just my left hand." To prove his point, he swung his Durin crested Warhammer, given to him when he left the mountain months ago. It flowed in a skilled arc.

"And he will use both hands with a weapon in each," Balin reminded him. "Let's see you draw your sword just as smoothly."

Fili smiled and reached for his other weapon. It barely cleared leather and try as he might, cringed.

"BLASTED, BOY," Thráin roared and talking abruptly ceased in the arena. "Take your armor and tunic off," he demanded formally in a tone not to be disobeyed.

Gandalf handed the letter back to Erestor and focused on the disturbance among the Durin clan. He hoped his weight as wizard wasn't needed in calming troubled Durin waters.

"I'm fine, Grandfather," Fili protested and backed up two steps right into Dwalin, who didn't budge.

Dwalin grabbed his right shoulder in a vice squeeze and Fili yelped in pain. "Strip now," Dwalin growled.

With help from Kili, he disrobed until bare chested.

Óin spun him around and all saw an ugly bruise turning black and blue with yellow around the edge. It covered his entire right shoulder; obscuring the new tattoo he won rights to for the Battle of Five Armies.

Dáin reacted first, as the king was gearing up for a long lecture. "Ah warrior is taught ta report all injuries. How did ye get this?"

Everyone strained to hear Fili's answer, although the elves clearly heard.

"I took a mace to the shoulder by an orc."

"And you thought to dishonor the Durin name by losing this bought?" Thráin found his voice and it rang out loud and clear and it was a king passing judgment, not a grandfather displeased with a grandson. "For deceiving me and your uncle, you are hereby restricted to my rule in this mountain for ten more years. You are nowhere ready for leadership. Also, no lasses for you until you are ready to take your place as a Durin lord."

Fili's face burned in shame at the rebuke and demotion in front of the entire mountain. He heard Tóvad laugh and turned on him. "I could have taken you with just one hand."

"You won't get a chance now," Thráin ordered and felt like hitting Thorin for being soft on the boys. Instead he motioned Dóvad and his son closer. "Lad, pick another challenger. I encourage ye ta take Kili. He may be younger than ye, but he is swift an battle ready, like I'm sure ye are."

"I want ta fight Thorin," Tóvad eagerly announced and the crowd roared its approval.

"Now, son, why don't ye pick the lad the king suggests," Dóvad encouraged. He knew his son would fare worse than him and he lost.

"I've made my choice," the obstinate son declared for all to hear.

"Why don't ye just challenge Lord Glorfindel of the elves," his father cried and the arena laughed and clapped.

Glorfindel grinned and lit from within, showing all where he was sitting.

Tóvad gloated, "Well, Prince Thorin, are ye scared of me?"

"Aw, Mahal, why did ye curse me with such stubborn dwarflings?" Dóvad moaned, to the delight of the audience and they shouted their opinions. Wiping his brow with a sleeve, Dóvad gestured he would allow the match. He knew what would happen and figured his son needed the humiliation. He stalked to the bench and sat, shoulders slumped in defeat, surrounded by his equally glum lords.

Thorin sighed and shook his head. "And if I refuse to fight a pup like you?"

"Then I won and don't have ta apologize to your father, probably a fake king anyway."

There was dead silence at the grave insult and everyone could see Thorin's anger and the rage from all the Durin's.

Thráin muttered, "I hoped we were past all that."

The elves tensed. They didn't want to be caught under the mountain if a war broke out among the dwarves of Jötunheim and the Longbeards.

Thorin's next words alleviated their fears. "Fine, young Tóvad, but I will show no leniency or mercy for your abominable words. You will spend a month in the Halls of Healing when I'm through with you."

"I'm ready, old dwarf," Tóvad sneered. He knew he could best his father and would show these Durin's of the Longbeards a new elite warrior was in Erebor.

"Want me ta fetch yer armor?" a royal guard serving the Durin's that evening asked.

Thorin looked at Tóvad and shook his head. "No, I'm planning on moving fast enough he won't touch me." He smirked at the rest. "And besides, it is an insult not to dress for a match."

Celeborn linked fëas with his wife by lightly taking her fingers in his. Sharing only with her, he silently asked, _'Who wins?'_

' _I'll not spoil your sport, meleth-nín. You will find out with everyone.'_

Thorin led the way to the center of the arena, with Tóvad trailing. Without warning, he drew _Orcrist,_ his only weapon, and knocked Tóvad off his feet with the broadside taking his legs from under him and stinging the leg he smacked.

Tóvad felt his feet come up taking breath from him and felt his head slap off the stone floor and raise just enough to loosen his helmet.

Not wishing to give Tóvad a shot, Thorin brought the flat side of the blade against his head on the first bounced off the stone with such force, the helmet went flying.

"Two," called Balin. "One more, Thorin and make it count."

Tóvad lay there stunned and sure he would pass out. Never had he been hit that hard in his life. He made a weak attempt to rise and heard the blade singing before it hit his thigh and everyone heard the bone snap. He let out a scream and passed out.

Thorin looked down at him with disdain and raising his head, roared, "Anyone dare insults the king, they will face me. I'll kill the next dwarf. This dwarfling got lucky that his father is ranking lord of the Blacklocks." He stalked back to the Durin lords and they could see he never broke a sweat.

Stunned the match was over with only three blows, dwarves silently filed from the arena while the elves stayed put.

Thráin patted Thorin on the shoulder and made his way to the elven booth. They rose out of respect when he entered with Dáin and Balin flanking him. "Ye got ta see ah bit of life under the mountain. How long are ye all staying?"

Galadriel spoke first. "Princess Dis invited Arwen and I to attend a courtship walk. I would like to stay for one. She assured me the best would be one she attended and since I know the lass Thorin will choose, would like to partake in two or three." She paused. "That way you will only know approximately which one."

Thráin laughed. "Ye are welcome to stay in my halls as long as ye desire an join Dis."

"Galadriel and Arwen won't be staying inside now that I'm here," Celeborn quickly declared; his distrust of dwarves extending to this generation, although he still considered Thráin a Durin reincarnate.

"The choosing of the order will be in the morning. Ye are invited ta partake in the drawing an have breakfast with me," he offered to all in the booth.

"I would be delighted to," Círdan spoke before one of the more cantankerous members objected. He threw a stern look at Celeborn and Thranduil. "I understand tomorrow afternoon we will start our summit, an abbreviation of the treaty you hammered out at the end of the last battle."

Thráin nodded. "Is that enough time ta vouch I paid all my bills?"

"That should be a sufficient amount of time," Thranduil agreed. "I have my records in order."

"As do I," Thráin solemnly replied, but his eye danced with mirth.

He walked the elves to the main gate and pointed out objects of interest. "Now that we are at full staff, trade over the mountains will resume like before. Are the coastal communities able ta meet our demands?" Thráin didn't wait for the meeting on the morrow. He was burning to know.

"All in good time, my friend," Círdan answered and patted his shoulder with affection. "I have numbers and know dwarves are not the most patient of races."

"Can't blame me for trying. Goodnight all," Thráin bid the elves farewell and quickly had a word with the human kings, assuring for himself they would attend.

"I am not invited," Fengel complained bitterly. "Celeborn told me I could depart in the morning, so I'm leaving."

"Then it is likely I will never see you again. Thank you for the supplies and effort you personally made in delivering them," Thráin formally told him.

Fengel nodded and hurried from the mountain. He didn't trust his men nor elves Celeborn provided as guards not to help themselves to his gold and didn't expect to be kept inside so long. He hurried to catch up with Celeborn. "My lord Celeborn," he hailed.

' _I just may kill him tonight.'_ Celeborn snarled to everyone nearby. He turned and didn't say a word aloud.

"You sent elven guards with my gold. I will check they didn't steal any before I pull out at dawn. If any is missing, I don't care if you are the high prince or whatever, I will never allow an elf….," he trailed off when a very sharp blade rested against his Adam's apple.

"Lord Celeborn has given me leave to behead you," Glorfindel silkily interrupted the tirade.

"Trade with Rohan is hereby suspended until your son is on the throne," Celeborn decreed and all elven lords inaudibly agreed. "No more wagons will be allowed from Rohan or your people will be slaughtered and wagons confiscated. If you are attacked, we will not come to your aid and will instruct the Steward of Gondor to avoid your realm also. You have isolated your kingdom from men, elves and dwarves until you die." Celeborn walked away with Galadriel on his arm.

Elrond stopped before the stunned king. "Glorfindel, please lower your sword."

Glorfindel complied and melted into the night leaving the two alone.

"I am most disappointed with you, Fengel. Your son sent such a nice letter and over the years, I've heard from him many times. He wrote me when he fled your kingdom and went to Gondor to live. He wished to keep lines of communication open for when he took the throne. I want you to be reassured that your people won't suffer for long and if you decide to do them a favor and die sooner than later, the elves will restore Rohan to former standing."

"You worthless elves," Fengel screamed in rage. "Just for that, I'll live to way past a hundred. Elves are hereby banned from Rohan. Stay off the Wold or face my warriors." He stumbled over a rock and caught his footing as he marched away from Elrond. He wondered what the elf meant by his people wouldn't suffer for long and came to one conclusion; they were going to kill him. He roused his caravan and without checking his gold, they moved south in the light of a full moon.

* * *

Dóvad, Lári and Lióni waited out of the way for Lord Óin to set the leg.

Master Melcótte, Elrond's head healer effortlessly kept Tóvad unconscious during the moving of him to the Halls of Healing. He worked with Óin several times during both battles and liked the cankerous dwarf that could barely hear. He motioned for Óin to place his trumpet in an ear. "I will set tonight with your dwarf."

"Nay, Melcótte, I have young healers for that chore. Ye did enough keeping him out of pain an mixing ah draught for when he wakes."

Melcótte nodded and bid him goodnight, leaving without making a sound or looking at anyone else.

Óin motioned for the family to join him. "He will indeed be flat on his back for ah month. After that, I assume he will offer ah humble apology or Thorin will kill him." Óin didn't hold back. "He won't be allowed ta leave until he does an there will be ah fair chance he will be stripped of his future lord status. I suggest ye all take this month ta knock sense into his thick head." Not placing a trumpet to his ear, he left them alone and departed to his chambers to check on his father, who didn't attend tonight festivities, sighting weariness.

"Why is Tóvad acting like this? Didn't he meet and get to know Thorin during the war?" Lári asked as she pulled the wool blanket higher on her son's chest. He was stripped and she didn't want him to get cold.

Dóvad looked sheepish. "I pushed our underage son during the war an bragged ta anyone that would listen and probably embellished Tóvad's skills, making him think he was ah better soldier than he was. And no, he only met Thorin maybe once in seven years. Father went ta all the meetings an I ran day ta day activities of the Blackfoots."

Patience at an end, Lári snapped, "How many times have you lied to me?" She raised her voice and Lióni quietly stayed in the background, listening to every word. "You promised me our son would do nothing more than polish your armor and fetch your meals. You had no intention of using him as more than another soldier and something to feed your ego, did you?"

He sighed and painfully told the truth. "Yes, I lied an told Tóvad never ta tell ye the truth. Ye heard of his fighting in the war an never questioned me before now, why?"

"Because when I heard of the awful details, I figured our son had to fight for his life and not for his father's bragging rights." Lári wanted to hit him and eyeballed a stone mortar.

"I wanted my son ta be ah warrior with his own name recognition an it takes ah war for that," Dóvad counterd. "What was ah few years of age against ah lifetime of accolades? As son of the ranking lord, our son had ta fight younger an harder than others his age an I embellished the tale of every orc he killed. If he killed one orc, I turned it into two. When we returned ta the mountain, he was given passes instead of training by the instructors, saying anyone who fought at Azanulbizar wouldn't need further training."

"He is paying a horrible price for your pride, Dóvad. He believes his skills are superior and he has to live up to your expectations," she grounded out through clinched teeth. "How can our daughter marry a Durin with this shame hanging over our family? I'm pulling her from consideration and we will leave and return to Jötunheim as soon as our son is able. I cannot bear the laughter and whispers that will follow us now. I will say goodbye to my mother, as her heart is with the mountain."

Dóvad sadly nodded his head. "Aye, I've been ah fool for so long an look what it's cost our family. Our son took ah beating that was mine an our daughter will never marry more than ah lesser lord. Even Trafid of the Stonefoots is marrying another, so she won't even get him an his title."

He paced and Lióni pressed against the wall, hoping to escape detection, for she didn't want to be sent away from this revealing conversation. Her father was her hero and to find out he was less than she imagined tore at her heart and she wanted to run into his arms and tell him it was okay, she still loved him.

Dóvad leaned over and stroked his son's hair off his neck. "I'm sorry, son. Tomorrow, we will be the Blackfoots your grandfather would be proud of and not this cheating, lying version."

Through his drugged haze, Tóvad, heard every word spoken and struggled to open his eyes. He did and looked into remorseful brown eyes. "I egged ye on, Da," he whispered and his hand caught his fathers. "Remember when ye wanted ta come clean an I blackmailed ye?"

"I should have ended it then," Dóvad admitted. "We each are both guilty, but no more. From now on, we will not talk about it and it will be our family secret. No more bragging about deeds ye didn't do an ye will apologize ta the king an Prince Thorin before we go home."

Tóvad nodded as he slipped back into slumber.

A healer entered. "I will be with him if ye want ta sleep in yer own beds."

Dóvad escorted his wife and daughter through empty halls, his boots echoing loudly on stone. The fire was banked and Risári long retired.

* * *

Elves settled down for the night, many to sleep and some to play music and sing quietly until dawn. Dale was still and even the night watchmen dozed off.

At four in the morning three long mournful blasts from the large dwarven horn roused dwarves, elves and men. There was much milling about and Bard rode from Dale into the elven camp, where all the lords were up and decked for war.

"What is going on with the dwarves?" he asked Elrond.

Elrond looked at Galadriel for answers.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, so they waited.

Finally, there was movement on the rampart and everyone gathered below. It was Thorin that stepped out and looked down at them. They waited while he talked quietly to a raven. When done, in a loud voice he proclaimed. "On this day of the Third Age, July fourteenth, year 2942, Gróin, son of Farin, died in his sleep. He will rest in state for one week in the main hall. King Thráin states business will continue as planned and visitations are open starting tomorrow for everyone. The Durin's will await the arrival of Lord Glóin before having a funeral."


	44. 44 Thorin's Courtships Part One

Thorin Stonehelm limped into the mountain to find a line of dams waiting for him. "Now, I know ye are mad. . . ," he began when his mother rushed him the moment he crossed the threshold and he was enveloped in a tight squeeze. "Aw, fer cryin out loud, not in front of everyone," he complained and it earned him a tap to his right ear. He quickly stepped back, rubbing the appendage while Ori laughed. He accompanied the dams and they were waiting to take their young miscreant to Thráin's breakfast for the elves. He managed to evade the elven healers and made a break for it before they insisted on bringing him home like a wayward youth.

He felt a hand slap down hard on his shoulder and was spun into his father. Dáin wasn't smiling like the dams. "It's one thing for me to give you leeway in the mountain, where your reckless behavior causes nothing more than hurt feelings, but out there, when I give an order, I demand everybody from warrior to gopher get there orders correct the first time." As Dáin talked, his voice rose and the formal tone had anyone close enough to hear, pausing to listen to the lord dress his son down.

An old dwarf quietly laughed and spoke to his companion, "Brings back memories of when Thrór took Thráin ta task an banished him from the family home. Good thing for this young sprout that he is still ah baby." They both laughed and overhearing, Thorin's ears burned red, while Dáin finally cracked a smile.

"You are hereby reassigned to Balin and whatever tasks he has for you."

Thorin nodded at his father's formal tone. "How long is my punishment?"

"Who says being assigned ta Balin is punishment?" Dáin lightened his tone and offered an arm to Azie and the group vacated the entrance to the formal dining room.

"I'd rather be assigned ta Dwalin," Thorin pleaded his case.

"Dwalin only wants those who follow orders," his father reprimanded him.

Balin rushed by Dáin's family to intercept the arriving guests. "Mornin all. I trust ye weren't too disturbed at Thorin's early announcement."

"You didn't disturb any elf," Elrond assured him. "We were up and bathing when news of your loss broke. On behalf of all elves, I offer our sincere condolences."

"I was honored for one last meeting with lord Gróin at Ered Luin," Círdan added somberly. "He insisted on leading the dwarves and was at the head of the long column when it pulled out of Ered Luin and stayed there until we reached the Shire and dined with Bilbo Baggins."

Balin's smile broadened. "I do miss our burglar."

"He sent a satchel of letters for the Company," Círdan informed him and produced a leather pouch with a wave of his hand, when a servant promptly gave it to Balin.

Balin in turn, showed dwarves as accomplished when with his own gesture had a servant at his side. "Take this to my office." He smiled back at the elves. "This way, please."

Seated in the formal dining chamber of the king, it was Galadriel's turn to speak on behalf of the elves and she stood so all knew who was speaking. "King Thráin, Lord Óin, on behalf of all elves, your loss is also mourned by us. We remember him as an outstanding dwarf of courage and leader when you fled the mountain and his leadership upon dwarves returning to the mountain. If you need time to mourn and bury him, we can postpone our summit."

Óin's eyes filled with tears and he lowered his trumpet and blew his nose. Next to him, Gimli hung his head and thought of all the times he ditched his grandfather to hang out with Fili and Kili and now regretted his youthful folly.

"I see no reason to delay. We await Glóin," Thráin responded and motioned the servants to serve breakfast of smoked ham and eggs with a side order of large, flaky cinnamon rolls.

* * *

Elessar found himself seated with King Bard's children again and this time Bain spoke directly to him and soon they were planning their day. Elrond informed Elessar just before coming to the mountain he was free to join Bain and explore the mountain, but only if they could find a dwarf to escort them. Bain was an acceptable escort around Dale and he cautioned the lad to stay with the older boy.

Erak listened in and made plans to keep an eye on both boys and quietly informed a standing Figwit of his plans, knowing the elf would mentally pass the plans on to Erestor, who in turn would inform Elrond. When Elrond turned and nodded his head once in his direction, he knew elven magic informed the lord.

"I was going to hit Gimli up for a tour of the mountain before news of his grandfather reached me," Bain explained. "Too bad Stonehelm got injured."

"Who is he?" Elessar inquired and shoved a large mouthful of cinnamon roll in his mouth, so all he could do was listen.

"Thorin Stonehelm, Lord Dáin's son. Ori told me he got injured in the battle and just this morning rejoined the dwarves from elven healing tents." Bain pointed to another table where a younger dwarf was slouching between an older dwarf and dam. He looked miserable and let his eyes drift across the room to their location.

"I'll show you the elven compound if you want?" Elessar offered and saw Bain brighten.

"I wasn't allowed in when they pitched tents when here last time. Da said I wasn't to disturb them, and besides I was scared of the guards. Fili ran afoul of them a couple times."

Elessar looked around the room to see where Fili and Kili were seated and saw them with the Company and lesser elven lords and at the table Gimli had been pointed out to him. "Maybe Gimli is free if everyone has to wait for his father."

"We can ask," Bain agreed.

"Can I go with you?" Seven year old Tilda asked.

Both boys looked at her with impatience. "No, you can't keep up," Bain shut her down swiftly.

Sigrid gave her brother a warning look. "Tilda, we are invited by the dwarven dams this morning, along with Lady Galadriel and Lady Arwen, to partake of the dwarven courtship rituals and visit the chambers of the king. That will be much more fun than skinned knees and boys language."

Tilda thought about her choices. "Okay," she meekly accepted.

Figwit, standing along the wall near them breathed a sigh of relief he wasn't forced to inform Lord Elrond that Elessar was being rude to any human child.

* * *

The mighty horn blew of approaching dwarves. Thráin quickly exchanged glances with Thorin and Dáin. He decided if important, a servant would be ushered to him with news. Maybe a caravan already reached the mountain he decided.

There was a disturbance at the door and no servant entered, but Lord Glóin stomped in, shedding armor and handing it off to servants. He spotted the eclectic group dining with his king and wasn't surprised with all the elven tents strewn between here and Dale. His attention was captured by Óin, who rose and hurried to intercept him and drew him in for a head-butt and hug.

"How did ye get here so fast, brother?"

"Father sent ah raven before they reached the mountain telling of a coming battle with orcs. I brought a few warriors, but encountered only a handful of fleeing orcs. We took care of them." He hugged his elder brother. "The raven Thorin sent caught up with us early this morning while we broke camp. I know he tried ta make it for me. Don't feel bad he couldn't hold on. I'm surprised he made it at all and was prepared ta never see our father again this side of Mandos' Halls."

"Aye, I was with him at the end. He talked of ye an was proud ye sired ah son ta carry on the family line. He spoke with pride on Gimli an the great deeds the lad will do."

Gimli overheard, as did everyone in the room, for it fell silent when Glóin walked in and all eyes were on the brothers. He wondered what great deeds he would do. "I only dream of great deeds," he stated loudly and was second to rise and hurry to his father; having waited as long as he could for the eldest of the family to greet first.

Galadriel's insight showed her an image of a much older Gimli riding behind Legolas on a horse. She smiled in the young lord's direction at another table.

Legolas caught her smile at him and wondered if he had something on his chin. The swipe of his napkin came away clean.

Glóin hugged his son and the ensuing head butt caused everyone not dwarven to cringe, even if mentally. "Son, ye are ah sight for sore eyes." He hugged the lad he hadn't seen for well over a year and let him lead to their table where another place was set beside Gellett. Glóin leaned over with a hug and long kiss before setting between them while talk resumed.

"Glóin will give ah detailed report ta me after they visit the body of their father," Thráin explained to his guests. "The Durin's will pay respect right after breakfast and have a family feast to honor Gróin this evening, so I beg off socializing this evening. Please feel free ta pay respects at yer convenience throughout the week. On the seventh day we seal the door and mark his name in stone alongside our dams because we will fill that crypt with no less than me and several others before assigning a new one for Durin's."

They enjoyed general news and banter until their repast was finished and once again Thráin rose and called for attention. He looked with amusement at the table of visiting lords and their families. He knew all were nervous and not sure if going first, middle or last was the best position, for never in the history of dwarves had so many sought the eye of just one for the main prize.

A servant brought a silver bowl. "Right after our family viewing of Lord Gróin; Thorin will start his courtship walks. Dis, join me an start drawing names," Thráin instructed and held the bowl.

Dis, with head held high, joined her father on a raised step so all could see. Her hand drew and held a stone in delicate fingers. "The first to walk with Thorin this morning is Lass Verdi." Dis loudly read the name.

There was murmurings around the tables and the rotund lass squeaked her delight. "None will compare to my charms, Prince Thorin," she cooed, batting heavy lidded eyes at him.

Thorin looked sick.

"I offer my dungeon instead of walking with her," Thranduil called out.

Thorin nodded he accepted, causing everyone to laugh.

Thráin laughed in glee at his son's displeasure while Dis drew again. "Second will be Lass Yurna of the Blue Mountains."

The comely black haired lass with piercing blue eyes nodded serenely. "I'm sure Verdi and all others will lose to me."

Thorin wanted to jump up and agree and tell everyone he already chose Yurna in place of the rotund Verdi; anything not to walk with her. Instead, he sat quietly, face emotionless, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Galadriel looked extremely amused and Thráin found himself looking in her eyes for a clue. He found none.

Again Dis' hand plunged into the bowl. "Lass Asli will walk with Thorin next."

"My Asli is fairest of all," Lord Asutri spoke for his daughter and the room laughed.

"I hope she doesn't need you to accompany them and do her talking," Thráin joked.

Asli's face flamed crimson and she buried it in a napkin hoping the princess drew another name swiftly.

The hand disappeared again three more times before she pulled and called, "Lass Lióni of Jötunheim."

"I've decided ta pull my daughter from consideration," Dóvad spoke up and the room fell in stunned silence.

Thráin glanced at Galadriel and saw her smile slip. Issuing his own amused look at her, he replied, "Nay, the lass will compete."

Dóvad was relieved his son's actions didn't damage Lióni's chances and he gained a small amount of dignity back among the lords with the king's decree.

The lass by default was Gerti, Lord Garad's niece and Thorin was relieved, for he knew her the longest and wasn't threatened she would disgrace her family name.

"The rules are simple," Thráin explained. "Thorin will walk with each lass an tonight ruminate on those he wishes a second walk. If he is confident of his choices, tomorrow we will meet an he will divide the lasses amongst the Durin's an other available dwarrow. Hopefully, tomorrow we will know the name of Erebor's future queen; an the elves stated they will honor the lucky lass at a feast they are preparing for us. Of course, the parents of the chosen lass is invited, but only of the chosen lass," he reiterated. "That is all an thank ye for joining me this morning."

Tall elves moved as a group, while Gandalf joined Óin and Glóin. Soon lost among the crowd, Bain and Elessar moved with the group. They saw Gimli moving away with his family and hurried to waylay him. Explaining their plans, they hoped he could guide them.

"I have ta go right now ta ah viewing of my grandfather an spend the day with my father." Gimli looked for his father, now talking with the king as they left in the direction of the Main Hall with its golden floor. "Tomorrow I'm all yours." As much as an adventure with the boys would be fun, he also wanted to spend time with the father he hadn't seen in well over a year.

"Okay, see you in the morning," Bain said and waved goodbye. He saw the elves were already leaving the entrance and ran to catch up. "Tomorrow we'll climb the steps up the side of the statue to the back door of the mountain. I did it once with Gimli. Thorin can't come due to his injured leg."

"I have something for you," Elessar informed his companion for the day. "It's in my tent."

"I've always wanted to see inside an elven tent," Bain replied enthusiastically and they tore out of the mountain under the watchful eyes of many elves and Erak.

Elessar didn't think twice marching past elven guards, but Bain wasn't so sure. He eyed them carefully; sure he would be kicked out, like Fili told him they tried with him. He breathed easier when all guards they met ignored both of them. He was led ever to the middle of a sea of white canvas with standards in front of many. "Ada's tent it that one," he pointed to a large tent with two armored guards holding spears skyward on each side of the opening. "He is sharing it with his daughter right now, but she lives far away to the south in a place called Lothlórien."

Bain struggled to see inside, but with the bright sun, saw nothing.

"That tent is Lord Celeborn's and Lady Galadriel's," he pointed to one across from Elrond's. Again the identical tent featured like guards with spears. Only the standard was different Bain noticed.

Elessar pointed out Thranduil's tent and Lord Círdan's and Bain saw they all formed a circle with a joint campfire just for the and all heavily guarded. Elves were bustling around, in and out of the large tents. Also inside the circle were two more tents that Elessar pointed to. "The next set of tents is where I'm staying with my mother. The twins share a tent with Erestor and Glorfy and Legolas is also camping in their tent. We always have a circle inside a larger circle for safety. Ada says I have to be kept unharmed and all these warriors," he pointed to many elves milling about, "are to protect me, so we are safe."

Bain stopped and counted how many tents formed the inside circle of lords and there was six, evenly spaced, forming a perfect circle. "So if I were to wrestle with you, they would stop me?" he asked looking around at all the guards seemingly ignoring their conversation.

Elessar laughed. "I doubt it. Elves spar all the time with each other. If you want, we can wrestle, but first let me show you my area." He led Bain inside where several cots were against walls. There was a divider for one and Bain learned Lady Gilraen slept behind that partition.

"I share with my mother, Erak and Figwit, the elf," Elessar explained all the cots.

"I wish I could sleep like this." Bain was impressed. Although, technically a prince, he still felt poor and common. "When we fled Lake-town, we all slept outside and nights were cold."

"Fili and Kili told me all about what happened," Elessar excitedly retorted. "I want to hear all about the arrow and everything." He dropped to his knees and pulled a duffel from under the cot. He dug around inside and pulled a sack out. He handed it to Bain. "This came all the way from the Havens by the sea."

Bain opened the heavy sack and pulled the whale out. "What is it?" It was pretty and looked like a fish.

"It's a whale. The twins saw one in the harbor. It had a baby. See," he pointed to a small one attached to the larger sculpture. "They got to feed the baby when it got lost from its mom. She came into the harbor found it, but not for many days. I'll get them to tell you the story."

"Have you ever seen the sea?" Bain asked. He heard stories and couldn't imagine anything larger than Long Lake.

Elessar shook his head. "Someday I'm going to travel all over Middle Earth like the twins do. Lord Círdan came from the sea and says you can't see across it and it takes over a month sailing in one direction to reach the undying lands."

"What is the undying lands?" Bain was full of questions and listened eagerly while Elessar told all he knew.

Getting bored of staying inside, Elessar asked, "Can we go see Dale now? Ever since I heard of the battle, I wanted to come and see it and Ravenhill and the battles."

They hurried with the speed of young, rambunctious boys, Bain carrying his new sculpture carefully. He looked forward to showing it off. Their first stop was his bedroom, where he showed his few possessions to his new friend.

"I want you to have this." Bain gave an orc scimitar to Elessar. "I took it off a dead orc. These were all over the place, but this one has a jewel set into the end of the handle." He showed a ruby red butt. "Da said it most likely belonged to a captain or legion commander. It's the only one like it."

Elessar ran a finger over the smooth stone. "Are you sure?" He didn't want to take a gift of great value.

"It would please me." Bain smiled and set his new whale on a shelf where he could see it when entering the room. "I have lots of weapons." He opened a door where a closet would normally hold clothes and it was full of various weapons from the Battle of Five Armies. He grabbed another sword and buckled it on. Elessar followed suit and soon they were mock sparing around the room.

"Let's see Dale," Elessar prompted and they hurried through the halls of the castle into sunlight. Erak was just entering another door and saw the boys running down a staircase from a keep, each sporting an orc scimitar and shook his head in amusement and wondered how the elves would react. Elessar was allowed to wear his elven sword on the trip, but instructed not to around dwarves or other children.

* * *

Thorin looked at the tunics laid out on his bed. His father and sister were going over each garment and discussing the best event to wear each. He had to admit his father's finest clothes left behind when Smaug came displayed wealth beyond his memory. Rarely had he seen such fine cloth and detail to embroidery. A royal blue tunic completely embroidered with the Durin crest was handed to him by his sister.

"This will bring out the blue in your eyes."

"I don't want to impress any of the lasses and already made my choice the winner." He tossed the beautiful tunic back and grabbed a dull grey one. "This one will do today. Besides it will be hid under layers of gilded accouterments."

"Nay son, ye wear Mithril with that tunic. I know ye didn't grow up owning more than three tunics ta yer name, but here everything is coordinated. Since these are mine, I remember what trappings ta wear with each garment. Yer mother dressed me as I'm going ta do ye like when ye were are wee bairn."

Thorin muttered a curse and let Picket tend his hair.

* * *

Thorin looked back at those in the escort party. A pregnant Azie and older Dioari were in front of Verda, Verdi's mother and a grandmother he couldn't remember the name of. He refused to offer his arm and stalked off with all falling over themselves to form the proper space and position.

"You're walking too fast, Prince Thorin," Verdi complained and panted on his heels. He decided to hide in the Hall of Tomes until his self-allotted fifteen minutes was up. He found Ori and Erestor searching for older contracts from long ago when the last summit was held during the time Thorin was just a baby. They smirked at him and he glared right back.

"Here it is, Lord Erestor. You will find it matches your copy exactly," Ori exuberantly cried out, holding a bound ledger in his hands.

Erestor bowed from the neck to Thorin and made his escape.

Ori looked at the dams and ran out another door. He was glad his brother's decided he needed another ten years before looking at a lass to marry.

Thorin sat and grabbed the first book his hand found on the table. He looked at Verdi. "Sit, lass."

When she shoved her girth into a chair that creaked, he looked at the title. It was the book he purchased from Lióni written in Sindar Cirth. He would have to inquire how it got into the library and out of his personal possessions. He smiled in remembrance at the hairstyle Lióni sported that night. She might think she was a tough dwarf, but underneath, she was still female.

"Thorin," his name spoken brought him back to the present and the smile wiped in a split second. "is that book one of love? I can't read the language and I bet you can't either. You just grabbed it so not talk with me." Verdi's tone ended in a pout.

Thorin turned his icy blue eyes on her. "What do you favor to do with your time, outside eating that is?"

She giggled at his question. "Oh, I am proficient in sewing and knitting and of course never had an unhealthy day in my life. I expect to birth a long line of Durin males."

"What is your next choice if no Durin takes you?" Thorin's tone grilled her as if a warrior seeking to join the elite guard, but she was too dense to understand the underlying insult.

"With so many Durin's, I'll get one of you," she crowed in delight. "I was born in the perfect age to have so many eligible Durin's to choose from."

"The king has final say, so don't think numbers are in your favor." Extremely bored, Thorin rose, book in hand. He stopped before the dams. "Prepare the next one." Without a glance to Verdi, he rushed away.

"What did you say to scare him off?" Verda demanded of her daughter.

"I spoke exactly how you and grandmother tutored me," Verdi challenged. "Perhaps, Prince Thorin likes another tact and not that of a coy female. If I don't get another chance at him, I won't forgive any of you." She flounced from the Hall of Tomes with her dams trying to keep up.

"One and done," Azie commented softly to Dioari and they smiled conspiratorially at each other. Neither was impressed with any family that would spoil a lass with food and ruin her chances of a good marriage. "Tell me about Yurna's qualities?"

While they walked back to the family wing, Azie looking forward to getting her feet up and letting other's take the next walk, Dioari filled her in.

"Yurna loves Fili, but so do all the young lasses at Ered Luin. Thorin was hardly ever there and ruling when in residence. He never paid them any mind, so they are scared of him. Of the Blue Mountain crowd, I think Gerti will fare the best. Thorin is friendly to her and she is older."

"Why do you suppose Lord Dóvad wanted to pull Lióni from the race?" Azie wondered aloud.

"Probably because since they've come here, it's been one mishap after another," Dioari replied. "I overheard Lári tell Aneht she didn't think her daughter could win after Tóvad made Thorin so angry."

"Oh tosh, Thorin's been called much worse. I bet it is something else."


	45. 45 Thorin's Courtships Part Two

Thorin took the book to his chambers and placed it in a drawer. He looked in the mirror and everything was still in place. He tried to remember the next lass and hurried back to the king's sitting room. Entering, he spotted Yurna and her family.

Emboldened after meeting pathetic choices and sure she would easily win, the spirited lass latched onto his arm without an invite. "Thorin, show me the wonders of Erebor."

Thorin glanced to see who his escorts were and was surprised to see both elves, Bard's daughters and Dis, along with Gellett. He glanced back at the lass and decided she was fair to look upon and he could see her as his queen and moved her to the top of his mental list. His father mentioned in passing the elves knew the one he would choose and figured that's why the elves were attending. He led her from the chamber and decided to walk in the direction of the mines so not to be distracted by the market. He figured, like his father before him, the one he chose would be the one he paraded in front of everyone. There would be plenty of time to woo the lass publically. On the way, he snapped an order. "Why would you make a good queen and wife to me?"

Startled at his brusque tone, Yurna shrugged it off and replied. "I'm by far the prettiest and the subjects should look upon one whose carriage speaks of royalty. I am after all, the daughter of one of your chief lords."

"Well, your father inherited his title when your grandfather died in this mountain at the fire of Smaug. Yotam was hardly a chief lord and Yose, your father, fared slightly better at Ered Luin. I will concede you are easy on the eyes. She was beautiful, with shinning black locks, flowing freely with only a white diamond clasp on one side. Her blue eyes matched his for color and brightness. He had a stray thought they would make pretty babies.

"I won't be a demanding wife, Thorin. A few nights in your bed to produce heirs and I'll be content serving our dwarves."

Thorin almost felt his body respond at the mention of bedding her, but her offer to avoid the royal bedchamber brought to memory a rumor he heard about her on the journey. "It is well known you have a crush on Fili. You're not thinking about becoming a O-zalafaurkhas are you?"

Her cheeks flamed and before she could stop herself, her hand spun him and a slap resounded down the corridor.

Miners nearby started snickering and one called to Thorin. "Yer life won't be dull with that one ready ta take ah Warhammer ta ye on the first walk."

Yurna's mother and aunt started to push by and confront Thorin, when Galadriel's firm voice halted their steps. "Thorin is correct. I read her mind and that is exactly what she is planning. It is not unheard of in dwarven lore for one married dwarf to find the bed of another married dwarf. If both are wed, it is very difficult to determine infidelity."

Dis listened in shock at Galadriel's revelation.

Thorin looked back at the dams and roared, "Neexxxt."

Everyone watched him stalk off.

Yurna's mother pleaded with Dis. "My lady, I'm sure the elf got it wrong. My Yurna would never have such sorted thoughts. Why I doubt she knew what the term even meant. She is a virgin and no dwarrow has laid one hand on her."

"I am aware your daughter threw herself at my son for years; even before both were of age," Dis countered. "We all know Fili is a handsome devil and with the wave of his hand can have any lass he desires. Lady Galadriel's insight has been most helpful." She smiled up at the tall elf and led them back to the king's chamber. Waiting was the third group and Picket serving tea and ale.

Lady Burneda, Yurna's mother glared daggers at the retreating backs of the royal dwarves and their company. She spun on her daughter. "Is what the elf says true?"

"Absolutely not. I'll not have my reputation smeared by the likes of an elf. Do something, Mother." She pleaded, now realizing she was precariously close to losing the Durin title. "I was sure the title was mine. I did as you and father instructed and gave Thorin space on the trip; especially when we saw him cringe every time Lord Teki threw his daughter, Arli, in front of him. I didn't expect wizardry of an evil elf tongue to be believed by Thorin. He of all dwarves distrusts elves."

A hand stopped her rant. "Yes, we will get your father to protest to the king we were treated unfairly. We will get you another chance and discredit the elves when Thorin chooses you. They'll never believe those lying, cheating, stealing pointy eared stringbeans again."

* * *

Asli didn't want to be bartered to any Durin outside Fili, but knew her duty; try and land Thorin for pride and bloodlines. She would much rather have Fili, but his ten year wait for a wife doomed her to marry another. She couldn't remember Thorin ever speaking directly to her and was always terrified of him and Dwalin.

Thorin stepped quietly into his father's sitting room and looked around. He started to make a caustic comment and saw the girl was already frightened out of her skin. She looked vaguely familiar and he looked to the father for her identity. 'Oh yes, Asutri's lass,' he placed her and remembered she was friends with Balin's eldest daughter, Cái. He joined Austri in an ale before tackling another walk. When he couldn't stall any longer, he offered her an arm and felt her fingers quake against the material.

Quietly escorting her out, he decided to have mercy and not parade her through the market, filled with dams flocking to catch a glimpse of any lass on the prince's arm. He directed her to an alcove he remembered finding Bilbo holed up in. He motioned for her to set and took a seat opposite so he could observe her. "Why do you wish to marry me?" he ordered in a stern tone. When she blanched, he decided that was enough scaring the lasses and felt a pang of remorse at his rough tone.

Asli squeaked out, "My father wants me to marry you."

In a kinder tone, he asked, "Who catches your eye?"

Her own went wide. "You, my lord."

He grinned. "You are a terrible liar. I'm guessing either Fili or Kili."

Her cheeks burned red. "Fili is cute," she whispered.

He laughed.

Just out of hearing from their posts across the wide hall, the dams either frowned or smiled in delight. Asli's dams were sure that was a good sign. Thorin's escorts, Cát, Balin's wife and Theri, Azie's mother, frowned. Neither could see him married to the mousy lass who would make a horrible showing as queen.

A few minutes later, Thorin escorted Asli from the alcove and turned her over to her mother and sister-in-law. He looked longsuffering at his own dams and in a quieter tone than with the previous lass, stated, "Next."

* * *

Dis preceded over the women of all races in the king's family chambers, having given a tour of the Durin home to the elves, Sigrid and Tilda. They were sipping tea, fastidiously prepared and served by the finest servants to come to the mountain. Most served the royal family in Ered Luin or came from the Iron Hills. A knock sounded and the next family was ushered in by Picket.

Dis looked at Galadriel for a sign she wished to join the group. She told them the next lass they chose to follow and she would come along with Balin's daughter, Cái; for the lass was almost of age and needed instruction on how courting was conducted.

Aneh, Azie's daughter was shy around the tall elves, but found kinship with Sigrid and Tilda. She was sure she would do or say something to embarrass the family, so stayed out of any conversation between the elves and older dams. Her mother told her that morning she wasn't old enough for escort duty, but she could be in the chambers, watching how the dams comported themselves. She took note of everything from their manner of speech, to how they held a tea cup and of course the fine gowns and opulent jewelry. She also noticed the human lasses were likewise reticent to talk to the older dams or elves, so they formed a coterie, along with Cái and Bát and sat on furniture at the far end of the room to give the older dams plenty of space.

"I hope I don't have to do chaperone duty," Bát grumbled to them and sipped her sweetened tea.

"And I am excited to be next," Cái countered and her heart leapt for joy when Dis announced her turn.

They didn't have long to wait when a knock rang upon the heavy door.

Picket let Lord Lofar of the Iron Hills and his wife, Colna and daughter, Lambi, into the king's chambers. He formally announced the new arrivals and instructed them to sit and wait for Thorin to return. With a wave of his hand, servants appeared before the family with ale for Lofar and tea for his ladies.

Thorin took one look at the plump Lambi and started planning who she should wed. Anyone but him, he decided and thought it foolish to go through the motions. He wearied of the game. _'I am Crown Prince; I can change the rules,'_ he thought and sat across from her. "I will talk to you right here."

"Now wait ah blasted minute," Lofar shouted. "Ye can't spark ah girl in your father's chambers."

Thorin rose. "I can and will." He made a shooing motion with his hand. "You can leave, lest it be said you were part of the courtship party."

Dis asserted unyielding control, as was her right. "I apologize, Lord Lofar. Of course Thorin is taking your daughter for a stroll." She threw an unsympathetic look in his direction. "Lady Anhet and lass Bát will provide escort for our family."

Bát looked surprised and saw the elves smile at her. She knew then everyone heard her remark of not wanting to participate and sure that's why she was chosen.

Sigrid dared a question. "Lady Dis, may Tilda and I also go with them?"

Dis threw a compassionate look at the human girl and once again wished she had a daughter. "Of course. You may accompany any party with our dwarves you desire." Her moment of generosity ended when her eyes riveted on her brother.

Thorin looked like he might refuse as he stared into her eyes. Instead, he snorted and rose. "If I must." He offered his arm and hoped it survived the clutching of nails and this lass was no exception, sinking them to the point of pain in her nervousness.

Lofar grumbled something about protesting to the king the insult and left.

Thorin led the lass along the long Durin Hall, down the wide staircase and skirted the market towards the main entrance. He needed fresh air. Once outside, he looked at the lass for the first time, ignoring gawkers. "I'm not marrying you, lass. I refuse to play games with you. I will choose the dwarrow best suited for you and if ratified by the king, you will have a husband."

Colna angrily jumped in. "Thorin, prince or not, I'll not have it said you didn't give my daughter a fair chance."

"Her chances of marrying a Durin or lord goes down with each word you utter," Thorin retorted and spun back towards the entrance. He looked down at the crestfallen lass. "I'm sorry you were caught up in all this court intrigue," Thorin sincerely told her. He gently disengaged Lambi's hand from his arm and stalked away without another word. He slammed the door to his father's chamber and thumped his head a few times against the wood.

"Careful, big brother," Dis jokingly cautioned, "you'll break the door."

He spun around, leaning against it. "How many more?" He quickly moved aside when it pushed open to admit his chaperones, who smirked as they passed him.

"Arli is next and then Lióni and lastly Gerti," Dis rattled off the names. "You do realize you are spoiling our fun?"

"Tell you what, I'll throw Arli off the rampart, spar with Lióni for the chance to be my queen and send Gerti in Dori's direction."

"Or you could take a short walk with Arli and pretend manners, match wits with Lióni and see if her tongue is sharp as her sword and send Gerti to Dori," Dis countered, drawing a smile from her brother.

"After lunch. Courting is making me hungry."

"Food is waiting in the private dining room." Dis rose and everyone with her. "Are you sure you want to eat with a table full of dams?"

"The only other option is my chambers alone, so I'll manage." He offered his arm and they led the way through double doors into a large dining room set for company.

"You could eat with warriors," she teased, enjoying a moment with her busy brother.

"Dwalin and Lötun will lead the ribbing, so I think not. At least Dáin is with father."

He sat at one end of the table with Dis at the other and dams, humans and elves between them. He noticed Galadriel chose to set at his right hand.

A platter of fresh caught trout was offered to him first and he took two, refused the green salad and scooped plenty of sweet potatoes from a bowl and grabbed a slice of bread. Nobody talked for a couple minutes and then dams started talking about the lasses and their families and who they felt was a better fit to join them. Thorin listened and had a question.

Reading his mind, Galadriel spoke softly before he could utter anything aloud. "Follow your heart, Prince Thorin. You know the one Aulë chose for you."

* * *

Bain and Elessar explored broken down ruins and his guide showed him where various battles took place.

Elessar jumped on a catapult and it swung with his weight. "Let's make a swing."

Bain looked around. "If we can drag it to the edge of the wall, there will be enough room underneath for a great swing; that is if you're not scared of a little height."

Elessar stood to his tallest and was impressed he was almost as tall as the older boy.

Together they struggled to push the large catapult on wheels to the edge and hoisted the sling over the side, happy the beam stuck several feet over the ledge.

Bain looked around. "We need to fill the counterweight with more rocks than we weigh."

"No problem. They are everyplace." Elessar grabbed a large rock he could barely lift and dropped it on the platform. They worked diligently until Bain thought they had enough.

They looked over the edge at the sling about ten feet below.

"Guess we climb down," Bain said. "We have to get to the end of the beam and down the chain."

"Okay," Elessar didn't hesitate. He walked out on top of the beam, unconcerned of the sharp rocks forty feet below. His agility training with elves made this easy.

Bain watched impressed and wasn't sure he could dance along the beam like his new friend just did. He watched Elessar drop to straddle the end of the beam and slide over the edge, legs wrapping around the chain. Fingers gripped the links and he climbed down until standing on the pouch, hands gripping the chain. His motion caused the pouch to sway and he looked around with glee. "Come on down, Bain. This is fun."

Bain scooted along the beam and looked over at the chain. He copied Elessar's movements and soon joined him on the pouch. They started moving back and forth, picking up motion until close enough to the wall so they could push off with their free hands.

Bain started using a foot and they swung out further.

"My turn," Elessar cried and gave a mighty shove with his foot, taking them in a large arc and their backs broke the swing when they didn't get turned before reaching the wall. "Try and stop with your feet so we don't splat again," he called.

Bain was able to turn them and they both pushed off together, laughing as they flew through the air. A dozen kicks and the wall above gave way raining boulders down on their heads.

Erak stopped for a bite with the good people of Dale when they spotted him wandering through their town. Everyone wanted to speak with a Dúnedain and he promised to return some night and tell stories. "I'm keeping an eye on Bain and Elessar," he stated and Theigard said he saw the boys heading in the direction of the catapults. Both men hurried through narrow streets, knowing the boys were at an age where trouble found them with little help.

Theigard stopped and looked at one with the boom over the edge. Loose rock made another dent in the wall he was sure didn't look that way last he traveled this path. He hurried to see the damage. "Boys, are you hurt?" he called down when he spotted them clinging to the chain, trying to climb it. Each was standing on the pouch with both hands on the chain.

Erak quickly joined him and shuttered at the sight that greeted him. The boys were bloody around the head and he feared they might faint and fall to their deaths. "Hold on, I'll toss a rope for you to tie around your middle." He looked for anything and spotted nary a tether. He looked at Theigard. "We need help."

Theigard nodded and reached into the pouch that hung around his shoulder. He pulled a small trumpet and gave three short blasts. "Our signal someone is injured."

* * *

Erestor finished reading aloud the contract from the last major summit involving all races when Thorin was a baby and the recent one so Círdan was brought up to speed with developments.

The elves were again hosting the summit and resided in Círdan's large tent. Tables and chairs were brought from Dale and many more elves attended. Thráin, Dáin and Balin represented the dwarves and Bard from Dale, all men. Erebor generously added a keg of ale and fine wine that was liberally shared, starting with Glorfindel, who was leaning against it, flute dangling insouciantly from the tips of his fingers.

Bard wanted desperately to ask about the beard Círdan sported, but didn't want to offend the great lord, for he needed charity from the elves.

"With Rohan cut off, where will we get grain?" Thráin was instructed that be his highest priority from all lords within the halls of Erebor and those visiting from the Iron Hills. Their carefully designed contract with Celeborn was now defunct and they were starting over negotiating for their needs.

"I brought four wagon loads of seed," Círdan replied.

"The farms will produce as before," Elrond assured them. "If every available man in Dale were to work the land until more men arrive, there will be bread and ale for all by next year."

"What about protection from orcs?" Bard quietly asked.

Everyone looked at Thranduil. "I would have to borrow warriors from Celeborn," admitted, giving nothing else away in tone or features.

Celeborn knew Thranduil's depleted numbers and nodded his head. "You can have those that guarded the wagon trains from the Riddermark."

"I wish the return of my son also. He can oversee them."

Celeborn have Thranduil a cold stare. "He is working for my wife. You will have to ask her."

Thranduil snorted with disdain. "What a convenient deflection, cousin. Your word is law with her when it suits your purpose."

Celeborn shrugged nonchalantly.

Círdan sought to move the meeting along and avoid a war of elves. "Legolas can choose for himself. He is of age."

"Then have the twins stay and oversee the protection of men," Thranduil snapped. "They are of age to get out from under the thumb of their adar."

"You notice none of them are in the meeting." Círdan stated the obvious. "Although grown, all three have yet to mature beyond Glorfindel."

"I'm right here," Glorfindel objected.

"You're here because of that barrel." Círdan pointed to the keg holding the golden warrior upright.

Glorfindel smiled and raised his flute in a toast to the speaker.

Thráin started talking and everyone quieted. "Let's leave the ledgers for tomorrow. I want trade agreements hashed out today if at all possible."

"I concur," Círdan quickly agreed. "Men are filling the towns vacated by sailing elves all along the coast. They trade locally, but the lure of far off lands will bring them much faster than elves ever moved. I am willing to send word and hash out contracts in your name, unless you have a dwarf in mind?" He didn't want to step on Thráin's toes and make an enemy.

Thráin scrutinized him carefully, looking for guile. "Normally, I would send Balin ta negotiate our trade agreements."

Balin nodded. "Aye, but I'm needed here."

"My next choice is Glóin, but he has ah family also an won't want another year parted. I know it was hard on you, Balin, being away from yours for years on end."

Balin sadly nodded. He remembered too many lonely nights, longing for his wife and daughters.

"We could send Thorin," Dáin spoke up. "That way he could avoid marriage."

"Or take his bride with him," Thráin countered. "I think that is ah good idea. Ye have so few, Dáin, it always takes me by surprise." His grin let everyone know a jest when they heard one.

"Just for that, I'll do the contracts, take Azie an young Thorin an leave ye here with ah son that doesn't want ah marriage bed and my daughter an the new baby. All should be ah bundle of joy ta be around."

"No, I think Thorin should take his bride on an extended tour of Middle Earth. I know he is tired of traveling, but most likely any lass hasn't seen more than the track they used ta get here."

"I'm waging Thorin will bail before any wedding," Dáin teased.

"I'll take that wager," Gandalf inserted himself into the conversation. "If Thorin sets one foot outside the mountain on his pony, I'll use my sorcery and put him in the healing halls until the day he pledges loyalty to his bride."

"And he still has ninety nine years and fifty one weeks of a jail sentence in my dungeon," Thranduil reminded everyone.

The dwarves scowled at Thranduil and Gandalf while the elves laughed at the dwarves.

"There will be no wager," Thráin grumbled. "Now back to important business. I have ah list of supplies we need from the land of elves." He motioned for Balin, who produced a sheet of parchment and gave it to Círdan first.

The lord scanned it swiftly and slid it to Elrond at his right hand. Elrond took more time and passed it along the elven side of the table.

"When supplies are delivered, we will take full payment for the goods and shipping," Thranduil opened negotiations. "I am not able to fulfill your requested barrels of wine this year. Would half suffice?"

Thráin examined the woodland elf carefully. With Thranduil one never really knew the reasons for his desired alteration of a contract. "And the reason?"

"We lost too many warriors fighting your battles for you," Thranduil brusquely retorted, trying to place blame on the dwarves.

"How close are spiders?" Thráin swiftly fished.

Thranduil scowled. "Close enough that little dwarves shouldn't come into my woods."

"We will have to renegotiate all wine contracts and of right now, not one more barrel leaves the mountain until I get my inventory replaced."

Glorfindel howled a long, "Noooooo," from his place at the barrel.

Everyone glared at Thranduil.

He looked around. "Hey, I'm affected by this also. I don't have the elves to pick the quantities of berries needed for my realm and the dwarves. Since they prefer ale; they won't suffer."

"No wine from the mountain, Thranduil, and I won't loan you my warriors," Celeborn vowed with anger in his eyes, although his tone was civil.

"We can always raid the caravans of Elrond and Círdan," Thranduil reasoned with Celeborn and they both paused to consider such action.

"You would alienate thousands of years of friendship over a few barrels of wine?" Elrond asked, flabbergasted they would even consider such action.

"You married my beloved daughter," Celeborn countered. "You are on the same level in my estimation as the dwarves."

Thranduil laughed.

"This is getting us nowhere," Gandalf cut in before the two lords had another famous fight; although entertaining, served no useful purpose.

"I offer my warriors as berry pickers," Celeborn told Thranduil, and everyone looked at the other two lords.

"Well… to keep my wine from being stolen from my own kin, my warriors are also at your service," Círdan offered and nudged Elrond.

"I have enough wine for hundreds of years if I loan Glorfindel to the pickers and close my borders," Elrond haughtily announced.

"I take that as your warriors will be ready to hit the slopes of Mirkwood Mountains in the morning," Gandalf ended the discussion. He looked at the dwarves. "You will get your requested barrels of wine and next year plan on having your dwarves do their own picking of berries and wild grapes."

Thráin nodded and saw Erestor making notes for a new contract for them all to sign.

A horn sounded from Dale and everyone looked at Bard.

"That's a signal that someone is injured and needs help," Bard supplied.

"Didn't the boys head in that direction," Erestor asked Elrond aloud.

Celeborn mentally reached out to his wife. _'hervess-nín, what is happening in Dale?'_

Galadriel focused on the town of men. _'The human boys are injured and trapped on the outside of the wall far above the ground.'_

When she didn't elucidate, Celeborn looked at Elrond. "The boy you are raising got injured with King Bard's son."

Bard jumped up and actually beat the elves to their feet.

"We will continue tomorrow morning," Gandalf called out to retreating figures. He joined Celeborn, Thranduil and Círdan in a glass of fine wine. "What did Galadriel say?"

"Are you into reading minds now?" Celeborn quipped and drained his glass and reached for the carafe.

"No, but I know how you operate."

"I repeated close enough to what she told me. Galadriel is more interested in playing dress up with dwarves as her dolls today. She is actually interested in who the princeling will choose."


End file.
